A Solitary Act
by smush68
Summary: With help from his team, Tony must help save an innocent woman he sent to prison.
1. Chapter 1

_**A SOLITARY ACT**_

_**Prologue**_

NCIS agents Leroy Gibbs and Anthony (Tony) DiNozzo sat in Interrogation across from a young woman and her older brother, breaking Gibbs' Rule about never putting suspects together. One of them was going to go down for the embezzling, and Tony sincerely hoped it was the right one. He and Gibbs both knew that the woman was practically innocent in all this - she'd thought she was helping out her brother. Might sound like a cover story to some, but the agents had the proof. The only thing Linnea Swanson was guilty of, was loving her brother.

Gibbs looked at Linnea, tears silently running down her cheeks. He knew she was innocent, and he _**knew**_ that she knew that he knew she was innocent. "Those are the facts, Miss Swanson. I would _**love**_ to arrest someone else for this. We know the money and transfers were planted where it would look like you did it."

"We have surveillance video from the bank," added Tony, "video _**you're**_ not in at the time of the deposits." He slid a calculating look at her brother, Andrew. "But someone else is." He slides a picture Gibbs had taken out of a file across the table so the siblings could see it. His heart twinged as Linnea looked at the picture and understood.

"Gonna' try and tell us that isn't you?" Gibbs asked Andrew.

Andrew looked at the picture coolly, seemingly unconcerned. "I got nuthin' to say."

"Well then, let's talk about the ship's surveillance and key card entry codes, all of which place _**you**_, Petty Officer Swanson, on duty when the money transfers from the ship's payroll to an off-shore account took place." Tony pushed a printout of entry times across the table.

"An-drewwww," his sister wailed through her tears. "Tell them! They think it was _**me**_, Andy. _**Please!" **_she implored.

He looked at his sister, then the two agents. "Like I said. I got nuthin' to say."

Tony couldn't believe this guy. Andrew was ready and willing to let his little sister take the fall for him. How could someone treat their family like that?

Apparently, Gibbs was having the same thought. "Now what kind of _**man**_ doesn't own up to his mistakes, and lets a woman take the blame for him?" he asked casually.

"Not just _**any**_ woman, either," chimed in Tony. "His _**little sister**_. I don't know about you, Agent Gibbs, but I'd walk barefoot over hot coals and broken glass for _**my **_little sister." There wasn't so much as a blink out of Andrew Swanson. "Hell, I'd even take a bullet for my little sister." Tony got up and walked around the table to stand behind the young man, boxing him in with one hand on the table, the other on the back of the chair. "What I _**wouldn't**_ do," he growled in Swanson's ear, "is let my little sister go to _**jail**_ for me."

Petty Officer Swanson pushed the pictures and papers away. "Pffft," he said cockily. "She won't get jail time. It's all circumstantial."

"Son," Gibbs began, as Tony angrily pushed away from the table. "This isn't going to the Military Tribunal. This is going to Federal Court. Evidentiary laws are a little different. Cases have gone to trial with less than this, and ended up with a prison sentence."

The agents could see that the young serviceman was starting to get nervous, but still wasn't ready to admit to anything or give them his accomplices. Tony sat back down across from Linnea, who had a nervous habit of twisting her fingers. He wanted to reach over and hold her hand to make her stop. "As it stands right now, to avoid trial, the Fed is willing to offer 15 to 20."

"_**Years?**_" Linnea rasped. She looked at her brother, pleading with him to say _**something**_. "You're just going to let them do this to me?" she whimpered through the tears. "Andy, _**please! **_Don't let them send me to jail!"

Tony shrugged. "With good behavior, you might get out in 10."

Andrew turned his head away from his sister. He sincerely hoped she wouldn't go to jail, but frankly, what the guys he owed the money to had promised they would do to his sister was a lot scarier than this.

Gibbs could see the fear in the P.O's eyes, knew there was a lot more to the story than they were getting. "Not jail, Miss Swanson. Federal Prison. Makes your average jail look like a vacation in Aruba." He turned to her brother. "That where you were planning' on runnin' to with the money before it went all to hell, Aruba?"

"Like I said," the P.O stated gruffly. "I got nuthin' to say."

Tony closed his eyes, not believing it had come to this. The wrong person was going to prison, for God's sake!

"Ok, then," Gibbs said, standing and picking up the pictures and papers and putting them back into the file. "Agent DiNozzo?"

Standing, Tony pulled out his handcuffs slowly. He didn't want to be doing this, dammit! He took Linnea by the arm and pulled her gently out of the chair. "Linnea Swanson, you're under arrest for embezzlement and theft of government funds," he said softly, the cuffs closing around her wrists with a click, trying to drown out her cries of confusion and fear.

Linnea struggled to get away from Tony. "Wait! Please!" she cried. "I want a deal!"

Gibbs stopped at the door and came back to the table. "I can't promise anything…"

She was almost bent in half with the emotional pain. "Please! I'll give you everything I know! Names, dates, phone numbers, addresses, whatever you want! If I've got it, I'll give it to you, pleeeeeeaaaaassssssseeeeee!" she begged, trying to catch her breath.

Gibbs and Tony shared a look over Linnea's head. This could give them the information they were looking for to crack the bigger ring.

Without looking at anyone, Petty Officer Swanson spoke. "Could you please let my sister sit down?" he asked softly. "She's having a panic attack, she won't be able to breathe very well."

With a hand signal to Ziva and McGee, who were watching from the Observation Room, he told them to bring Ducky, their M.E. up to have a look at her. This was eating Gibbs up inside, too.

Tony pulled Linnea's chair away from the table and gently helped her sit as she tried to control her breathing. He moved around the table and brought his own chair up in front of hers, wanting to be close if anything should happen.

Linnea raised her teary eyes to Tony's. "Please," she gasped, "a deal!"

"Let's wait until Dr. Mallard's had a look at you, ok? Then we'll talk deals." Tony promised.

"No, no, no, no," Linnea rasped, shaking her head furiously. "Now! Please, now!"

Tony looked at Gibbs for help. On the one hand, if they kept this prison talk up, she'd most likely hyperventilate herself into passing out. But it also appeared that if they_** didn't**_ talk, she'd hyperventilate herself into unconsciousness. Getting the almost invisible nod from the boss, Tony began, talking quietly and calmly. "Ok, we'll talk deal. But I have to be honest and tell you that we can't get the sentence reduced, you'll still be looking at at least 15 years."

Her breathing a little more regular, Linnea wiped her wet cheeks on the shoulder of her shirt. "(sniff) It's not the time I want changed," she gasped, embarrassed at her red eyes and red, drippy nose. What she'd give for a tissue.

'Didn't want a sentence reduction?' thought Tony to himself. 'Well then what the hell else _**was**_ there?' He raised an eyebrow at Linnea, silently telling her to continue.

"I could care less about the time," she coughed. "If I go to prison, with or without a trial, (sniff) I want to be placed in solitary." Looking at the agents, she saw that she'd shocked them - who in their right mind would _**ask **_for solitary? "Please? That's all I want, and I'll give you everything I can." She started to hiccup and cough. Raising sad, terrified eyes to Tony's she begged, "please?"

Tony looked at Gibbs in shock, to see that the man himself was also in shock. The two men had a silent conversation with their eyes. Gibbs didn't know how he'd work it, but he'd get her what she asked for. She'd be safer in solitary, seeing as she didn't belong in prison to begin with. He gave Tony a slight 'go ahead' nod.

"Ok," said Tony in disbelief. "We'll get you into solitary."

Linnea closed her eyes in relief, beginning to cry again. She opened her eyes and looked at Tony. "Thank you!" she gasped.

At that moment, Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard entered the room, stethoscope around his neck, big, black, doctor's bag in his hand, escorted by Junior Agent Timothy McGee.

"McGee, take Petty Officer Swanson back to holding and prepare his release forms," Gibbs said quietly. He hated what had happened here. He began to rethink his idea of keeping the siblings together for interrogation. He'd thought the brother would step up and keep his sister from going to prison if he saw what it would do to her. Maybe he should have let DiNozzo take Miss Swanson in a separate room, and then Gibbs could have gotten the confession out of the Petty Officer any way he had to. He looked down and saw Linnea with an oxygen mask covering her nose and mouth and inhaling deeply as Ducky instructed.

Leaving the young lass to the vigilant care of Anthony, Ducky walked over to Gibbs. He could see that the man was blaming himself for this medical event. "Don't be too hard on yourself, Jethro," he told his friend. "She's going to be fine after a few good breaths of pure oxygen."

Gibbs shook his head. "Nah, she won't be alright, Ducky, going to prison for 15 years for a crime she didn't commit." With one last glance at the young woman, he walked out of the interrogation room. He needed his basement, his boat, and his bourbon - not necessarily in that order.

_***NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS***_

_**One month later…..**_

Tony stood outside the federal courthouse waiting for Linnea Swanson to be escorted out. The federal prosecutor had accepted her plea agreement, and she'd been sentenced today. Fifteen years in solitary confinement in federal prison. His gut still churned over this, and he needed to make sure that this was what she wanted.

Seeing her being escorted down the steps, in stylish yet plain black pants and curve-hugging jacket - hands cuffed in front of her, burly corrections officer holding her by the arm - he walked over, pulling out his badge. "DiNozzo, NCIS. This was our case. Can I have a moment with Miss Swanson, please?"

The officer looked at Linnea to see if she had any objections, and when she didn't, he nodded. "Don't take long. Got a busful of angry ladies headin' for the pen, and they won't like waiting too long."

Tony nodded, taking Linnea by the arm and leading her a few feet away, out of earshot. "Linnea, you don't have to do this….."

She smiled up at him with sad eyes. "Yes, I do, Agent DiNozzo. Someone like me? I wouldn't last a _**week**_in the general pop, good girls never do." She sighed. "Do you know, except for tussling with my brother as kids….I've never been in a fight." She laughed at herself. "I don't even know how to throw a punch so I don't break my thumb. We were always a 'solve-it-with-words' kind of family. No self-preservation skills, but I can go all Dr. Phil on them." She smiled sadly.

Tony searched her eyes, seeing that she was resigned to do this. "You know there's no visitors in solitary…." he tried.

She shrugged. "No one to visit me, anyway."

"Locked up in that small room 23/7, a 10-inch window too high up to see out of….."

"Guess I'll finally catch up on my reading," she countered.

Tony shook his head slowly. This just wasn't right, and there was nothing he could do about it. "Are you _**sure**_ this is what you want? Maybe we can work something out…."

All of a sudden came yelling from the prison bus. "Hey, Princess! Let's go! I miss lunch, you're not going to be very happy!"

Linnea looked down at the ground, realizing that she wouldn't be seeing grass or dirt for quite a long time. Suddenly, she wasn't so sure…. No, she _**had**_ to do this. "It's ok, Agent DiNozzo." She shrugged, finding she was reluctant to say goodbye to her last link to the outside world.

The corrections officer came up. "Time to go, miss."

Linnea nodded sadly and began to back away when Tony grabbed her hand. She looked up at him in surprise.

Tony took her hand and made it into a fist, positioning her fingers where they belonged. "Thumb on the outside," he said quietly, making sure she knew at least _**one **_method of protecting herself. He felt his eyes tear up as she smiled sadly at him and gave him a small wave goodbye. He watched her climb on the bus and take a seat, saw her look out the window at him. He could hear the other women inmates already begin to taunt her, but she sat perfectly still, eyes ahead, trying so hard to be strong. But he'd seen the tell-tale tremble of her chin. He watched as the bus was put in gear and began to drive away, and watched until it was out of sight.

He'd just sent an innocent woman to federal prison. For fifteen years. He hadn't gotten justice for Linnea Swanson, and he knew she would haunt him for the rest of his life - the one he couldn't save.

**Well? Like it? Love it? Loathe it? Should I continue? Write me a little sumthin' in a review or a pm, let me know! Please. The fate of this story depends on YOU!**

**Yes, yes, I know I shouldn't be starting another story when I already have 2 still in progress. But writing helps me think! So PLEASE REVIEW and let me know what you thought of this prologue - chapter 1 should be up by tomorrow (Sunday) evening.**

_**DISCLAIMER:**_** I own nothing nor receive anything from anyone or any**_**thing**_** having to do with NCIS, CBS, Belisarius Productions, or any affiliates and subsidiaries of the aforementioned entities. Yeah, sucks to be me!**


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N-**_** This chapter rated M for discussion about rape - not very graphic. IF THIS IS NOT YOUR THING, DO NOT READ! But it's not very graphic, so you can take a look at the end of the chapter first, that's where the rape is discussed, see if it's palatable to you.**

_**A/N 2-**_** Please read and review, let me know what you think, if I should continue. Thanks in advance!**

_**DISCLAIMER:**_** No one from NCIS, CBS, etc., had anything to do with the writing of this fic, nor do I have anything to do with NCIS, CBS, et al. Except for enjoying the show.**

_**A SOLITARY ACT**_

**Chapter 1**

_**Eighteen months later…..**_

"Excuse me…." Agent Tim McGee looked up from his computer screen at the gravelly-sounding woman's voice next to his desk. The voice belonged to a woman in her late 30's, early 40's, dull light brown hair haphazardly pulled into a bun at the back of her head. Her navy blue suit, which was slightly ill-fitting, had seen better days. As had this woman, McGee thought to himself.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" Tim asked politely.

The woman was on the nervous side, which put the young agent on alert. "Yeah…I mean, _**yes,**_ I'm looking for Agent DiNozzo? They told me downstairs that I could find him here."

Tim had to think for a moment where Tony had gone. That's right, down to Abby's. But he wasn't about to send this woman down there not knowing who she is. "Uh, he's down in the lab at the moment. Would you like to wait?" When the woman lifted her arm to look at her watch, Tim noticed the tattoo on her wrist. If he wasn't mistaken, it was a prison tatt. Was this woman an escapee? 'Geeze, McGee' he mentally whacked himself on the back of the head, 'why would she come to a federal building if she was and escapee?'

Fidgeting, the woman looked at her watch. "Yeah…I mean,_** yes**_, I'd like to wait. I have some time before I have to be to work."

McGee found a free chair and placed it by Tony's desk. "I'll call down and let him know you're here, Miss….?"

"Thompson, Janice Thompson," she informed McGee. "Thanks… I mean, um, _**thank you.**_"

Tim gave her a smile to put her at ease. "No problem." As he dialed Tony's cell, he couldn't help but wonder about the way the woman spoke - almost like she'd been coached on what to say. "Hey Tony, there's a woman up here to see you…uh, no, Tony, not that kind…..she specifically asked for _**you**_, that's why…..ok, thanks." He turned to Ms. Thompson. "He'll be up shortly."

She gave a relieved smile. "Thank you very much, Agent…?"

"Oh, sorry, ma'am. Agent Timothy McGee," he said kindly. "If you don't mine my asking, how do you know Agent DiNozzo?"

The elevator dinged and Tony hopped off and interrupted before Janice could answer. "Ok, McSecretary, where's this chick that's so hot to see me?" He looked over at his desk when McGee pointed, and jumped, startled. "Oh! Uh, excuse me, Ms…?"

Tim shook his head and looked apologetically over at Janice. "Agent DiNozzo, this is the _**woman**_ that wishes to _**speak with you**_, Ms. Janice Thompson. Ms. Thompson, this un-mannered man is Agent DiNozzo."

Janice stood and held out her hand abruptly. "Hi… I mean, _**hello**_, it's nice to meet you."

Tony looked questioningly over at Tim as he shook the woman's hand. "And me, you." When Tim merely shrugged his shoulders, Tony asked, "I'm…sorry, but… do I know you?"

The woman looked nervous. "Not really," she began. "Um, well, _**I**_ know about _**you**_, but we've never met, if that's what you mean." When Tony looked at her expectantly, she looked nervously around the room. Big spaces still made her anxious. "I need your help, Agent DiNozzo. Well," she clarified, "a friend needs your help. Is there someplace we can talk?"

Making a snap decision that Janice Thompson was no threat - despite the prison tattoo on her wrist - Tony said, "Sure, let's go to the conference room," ushering her out.

_**Conference room….**_

After offering her something to drink, which she declined, Tony sat a chair away from her, not wanting to overcrowd her. "Now, how about you tell me how you know me?"

Playing nervously with her watch, Janice thought how to begin. "Well, it's not so much that I _**know**_ you, than it is I know _**about**_ you. From a mutual friend."

Tony wondered to himself just who they could have in common.

"Look, Agent DiNozzo, I'm not going to lie, here. I know you know I was inside. I'm not trying to pull anything. I just wanted to get that out of the way right at the beginning," Janice said frankly. "I'm here on the up-and-up."

"Ok, you're right, I know you were behind bars at one time. But you're not now," Tony acknowledged. He sensed this woman would treat honesty with honesty. "Now that that's out of the way, how about you tell me why you're here."

Janice didn't think she'd be this nervous. She was out legitimately, had put in her time. Maybe it was just the fact that this guy was law enforcement. "Well, this…friend….said that if I was ever in trouble or needed help, to come to you, and you'd help the best you could."

Tony groaned to himself. Was she just here for a 'get-out-of-jail-free' card? 'Who the hell would tell her to come to me?' he asked himself. "Are you in trouble, Ms. Thompson?"

"Me?" she yelped. "Oh, no way, sir! Uh-uh! I'm staying outta trouble and keeping my nose clean, sir!"

"Then what are you doing here, Ms. Thompson?" Tony asked.

"It's my…friend…who's in trouble. The one that told me about you."

Tony nodded. Ok, now they were starting to get somewhere. "Is she out, too?" He softened a bit when he saw her eyes begin to tear up.

Janice pulled out a crumpled tissue and dabbed her eyes. "Um, no, no, she's still inside."

"Well, she should be going to someone inside, then. Guard, warden, whomever…" Tony said. How the hell was he supposed to help someone in jail?

"She _**can't**_, Agent DiNozzo," Janice insisted. "You're the only one she trusts!"

Enough dancing around. "Who're we talking about, Janice? Who told you to come to me for help?"

Janice got up and paced. "She doesn't know I came to talk to you. She'd be really upset if she knew…."

Tony stood and stopped Janice in her tracks. "_**Who**_, Janice?" he asked firmly.

"I don't know if you'll remember her…." Janice began, and rushed to finish when she saw the expression on Agent DiNozzo'z face. "Do you remember Linnea? Linnea Swanson?" The agent's face paled. "She came in a little over a year ago….."

"Nineteen months," Tony murmured. Holy shit. Remember her? He only thought about her every damned day, remembered that he'd failed her.

"So you remember her?" Janice asked hopefully.

Tony ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat, which suddenly felt tight. "Yeah, yeah, I remember her, Janice. How do _**you**_ know her?"

Janice looked him in the eye, letting him know she wouldn't lie about this. "I did some time in solitary in the pen. Was on the same block as she was." She wiped at her eyes again. "I'm sorry, Agent DiNozzo, I'm just not sure how to begin…."

His own eyes felt a bit moist. "Well, for starters…did she adjust ok?"

"I wasn't there at the beginning of her time, but when I was there, she seemed to be doing alright." She sighed. "I guess she liked to read a lot, instead of going to the yard for her hour, she chose the library." She chuckled. "She always said that a book could take us far away from where we were, without having to buy tickets and wait in security check lines."

Tony smiled to encourage her to keep going.

"(sniffle) The warden must have thought all that reading was something special, because he asked her to teach a group of us how to read. He said he was trying to start a new program for us stuck in solitary." A tear escaped and ran silently down her cheek. "We all knew her story, knew she chose to spend her sentence in the hole. We didn't think it was _**right**_, but it was for the best. Someone like her? Wouldn't have lasted in general pop."

Tony grimaced. "Yeah, she said the same to me the day she went in."

"The warden may have been trying to start a program, maybe not, I don't know. But Linnea made the mistake of enjoying the time out of her cell. She craved seeing and talking to other people."

Tony put his head in his hands. "Go on," he instructed, letting Janice know he was still listening.

"Once they knew she liked doing it, they started to take her few privileges away." This was where Janice started to get angry. "It started slow, taking away one of her hours occasionally. Then they were taking them away more and more often. Told her if she wanted to keep the class, she had to give that hour a day up." She clenched her fists in her lap. "So she did. Never complained about it. She had her group twice a week, she was fine with that. Then they started taking away her weekly commissary visits." Janice shredded the tissue, forgotten in her hand. "We started sneaking little things to her - soap, toothpaste, other toiletries. We showed her how to hide them. But again, she said she was ok with it, because she got to actually _**see**_ and talk to people."

This was what he'd been afraid of, all those months ago. A sweet soul like Linnea needed human contact. Damn, but he felt like a first-rate prick for not getting her out of this.

"Once we were reading pretty good, she taught some of us who's time was almost up how to fill out a job application." Smoothing her hand down her suit, Janice looked at Tony with a sense of pride that wasn't there when she talked about being inside. "Thanks to Linnea, I got a job," she smiled. "It's only telemarketing, but I've been there almost six months now, and I was just made shift manager of my section," she said proudly.

Tony reached over and squeezed her hands. "Good for you, Janice, good for you," he assured her happily.

She spent one more moment feeling good about herself, then began Linnea's story again. "The po-po and the warden were getting frustrated that Nay-nay - that's the name we gave her, Nay-nay - didn't seem to mind everything getting taken away. So they started taking away the classes. By the time we were down to once every other week, the rest of us could see what it was doing to her. She would be so up when we had group, which wasn't what was supposed to happen, I guess. But they'd taken everything they possibly could from her, so they let it stand. But for a price," Janice spat angrily.

Taking Janice's hands in his, he held them tightly, hoping to give the woman some of his strength. "What happened, Janice?" he asked softly.

Janice sniffled, wiped her eyes on her suit jacket sleeve. "They found one more thing they could take away from her," she whispered hoarsely, tears streaming down her cheeks now.

He was confused. Janice had said they'd taken everything away already… what could possibly be left? "What, Janice?"

"One night, one of the male guards made an extra bed check….made sure none of us were awake." Janice started gasping for air as she cried. "He….he…" Oh Lord, how did she say this?

Tony's heart dropped right out of his chest. "He _**what**_, Janice?" he asked with a growl, praying she wouldn't tell him what he thought. "What did this guard do?" He felt like he could kill someone.

Her whole body trembling now, Janice continued. "When he got to Nay-nay's cell, he…. He went in. And we heard Nay cry out….we knew what he was doing to her!" She looked up at Tony, pleadingly. "We tried to help, Agent DiNozzo, we did! We started yelling, calling out for one of the other guards, yelling at _**him**_ to stop…..no one came….when he left…all we could hear was Nay-nay crying!" Janice was surprised when Agent DiNozzo wrapped her in a hug, whispering in her ear that it was ok, and not her fault. When she had composed herself, she continued, "the next day, our group started back up. And three or four nights a week…..that same officer made an extra bed check. In Nay-nay's cell. And after he left, we'd hear her crying."

His own fists clenched, Tony took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He needed to get Janice to finish the story so he could go throw or break something. "Why does Linnea need my help _**now**_, Janice?" he growled. "What's going on?"

"I may be out, and have a job, but I still got a line to the inside," Janice said. "It ain't good, Agent DiNozzo. You gotta promise me you won't think bad about Nay-nay, none of this was her fault!"

Tony sighed. "I know, Janice, it's not Nay…Linnea I'm pissed at."

She pulled into herself like a little girl. "She got knocked up," she whispered, jumping when Tony burst out of his chair and kicked it across the room. "My friend says Nay-nay's in the hospital. Something bad happened. She was almost six months along, and that fuckin' guard was still doing his 'extra bed checks'. About a week ago, my friend says one night, Nay-nay started moaning, then calling for help. Her neighbors tried to find out what was wrong, but she couldn't answer, just call for help. They all tried calling, but no one came. Then she says Nay-nay got real quiet. They kept calling her, trying to get her talking again. They heard her at the door, banging on it. So they called to her, they were all at their bean holes…." Janice paused, sick to her stomach. "They looked out… and saw her hand out the hole…..and it was covered in blood….."

Doing his best to stay in control, Tony asked, "how long?"

Janice hugged herself. "My friend says they yelled and made as much noise as they could…"

"_**How long, Janice?"**_ Tony ground out between clenched teeth.

"It took about two hours before someone came in….." Janice cried. "They rushed her to the hospital. Our source says she had a miscarriage. If they had come in any later, the doctor says she could have been dead."

Two hours. Two freakin' hours before someone checked on her. Two hours she bled out. Two hours that must have been terrifying for her. Two hours that, if she weren't in prison, would never have happened. His feelings - guilt along with rage - must have been plain on his face, because Janice came up to him, held onto his arm.

"Don't be blaming yourself, Agent DiNozzo. Nay-nay spoke about you a lot, how you tried to help her, talk her out of solitary, how if we ever needed help when we got out, to come to you, cuz you were a good guy." Janice's eyes pleaded with him. "Well, I'm here to ask for your help, Agent DiNozzo. I need you to help Nay-nay. We both know that no matter how bad things got, she'd never ask for it for herself." The agent was so quiet for a while that she was afraid she'd made a bad choice in coming to him.

Tony took Janice's face in his hands and stared in her eyes. "I'll help her, Janice. I promise you, I will help her." He didn't tell her, as he gave her a kiss on the forehead, that when he was finished helping, it would be hard-put to find anyone in a uniform in that prison alive.

_**C L I F F I E ! ! !**_

_**REVIEW PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A SOLITARY ACT**_

_**CHAPTER 3**_

Sensing movement out of the corner of his eye, Tim looked up from his desk to see Tony escorting Ms. Thompson out, hand on her elbow, gentleman-style. 'What the…?' he thought.

*NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS*

"That's alright, Agent DiNozzo, I can take a cab," Janice said, slightly embarrassed. In all honesty, she wasn't used to members of law enforcement treating her…well, like a _**real**_ person.

Tony squeezed her elbow lightly. "No way, darlin'," he said gently. "You're getting a ride to work. Don't want you to be too late."

Janice tried again. "But really….."

Just as they reached the bull pen, Tony yelled, "McGee! Where's Gibbs?"

Tim and Ziva shared a look. Did Tony just call him 'Gibbs' instead of 'boss'? And McGee, 'McGee', not a McNickname? Tim's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "Uh, he's…Gibbs is…"

"_**Forget**_ where he is," Tony ordered. "Get him up here _**now.**_" He put an arm around Janice's shoulder and drew her closer to Ziva's desk. "Janice, this is Agent Ziva David. She'll be driving you to work."

Ziva's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I am what?" But Tony wasn't paying attention to her. Who _**is**_ this Janice?

"And remember," Tony chastened Janice, "if they give you grief about being late, call me, ok?" He could see she was thinking differently. "Promise me, Janice," he ordered gently.

Janice sighed. "I promise, Agent DiNozzo," she mumbled, head down.

Giving her a one-armed hug, he whispered in her ear, "head high, darlin'. You've earned it."

Janice's chin wobbled and she picked her head up. "Thank you, Agent DiNozzo," she said with a sniffle.

Giving her arm a squeeze, Tony said, "you've got my card, right?" He waited til she nodded. "Ok. And remember - if you need anything…."

Janice smiled a watery smile. "I'll call," she promised as she reached up and gave Tony a hug. She whispered in his ear, "Nay-nay was right about you. You _**are**_ different than the others."

Ziva stood with her bag and coat. "Shall we go, Ms. Thompson?" she asked, giving Tony an odd look as they left.

Tony turned quickly on McGee. "**Gibbs! **Where is he?" he yelled as he walked to his desk.

Tim was beyond confused. Tony was actually nice to a former prisoner…. "Uh, he's down in Interr…"

"I don't_** care**_ where he is!" Tony began typing furiously on his computer. "Just get him up here!" he said angrily.

"But he's in Interroga…." Tim gulped as Tony grabbed him by the front of his shirt. He hadn't even seen the other agent roll over in his chair.

Tony gave Tim his best version of the Gibbs Glare. "I don't care if he's in a meeting with the Heads of State of every country in the world. **GIBBS. HERE. **_**NOW." **_Seeing his junior agent about to argue, he growled, "As senior agent, I am _**ordering**_ you to get Gibbs up here in the next five minutes. We clear, Probie?" he snarled.

Tim weighed his choices, and decided that interrupting Gibbs in Interrogation was the safer one. "On it, boss." He all but ran down the hall.

_***NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS***_

Stopping outside the door to Interrogation Room One, Tim closed his eyes, praying Gibbs wouldn't hurt him _**too**_ much for this. He took a deep breath, and with a soft knock, he hesitantly opened the door to see Gibbs leaning across the table in the suspect's face, eyes hard as steel. That glare turned to _**him**_ and he gulped. "Uh, s-sorry, boss," he said hesitantly, as Gibbs strode angrily to the door. "but, um, Tony…Tony sent me to tell you he needs you in the bull pen," he said softly.

Gibbs leaned in closer to Tim's face, eyes blazing. "You _**never**_…"

Tim held up a hand between their bodies, hoping to hold his boss at bay. "I _**know**_, boss. But Tony… I've never seen him like this before, boss," he hastily explained. "He actually called me 'McGee'!"

"That _**is**_ your name, isn't it?" Gibbs got right in close to Tim's face. "Or is it 'Probie Out of A Job?'" he growled.

"I…I…uh, he… he called _**you**_ 'Gibbs,' boss, not 'boss.'" Seeing that that wasn't making Gibbs any happier, Tim stammered, "He pulled the 'Senior Agent' card and _**ordered**_ me to get you up there." He saws Gibbs processing this information. "I've never seen him like this before, Gibbs. Yelling, making Ziva give the ex-con a ride to her job, giving me the stare…." he took a breath. "Pretty much like the one you're giving me now."

Without warning, Gibbs was halfway down the hall. "Let's _**go**_, McGee!"

_***NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS***_

Gibbs stormed into the bull pen, prepared to fire Tony's ass if the reason for interrupting his interrogation was less than the outbreak of World War III. Seeing his SFA seated calmly at his computer, he got even angrier. "_**DiNOZZO!" **_Gibbs got a smidgen of satisfaction when the younger man jumped. Walking right up to Tony, who was now walking out around his desk to meet him, he growled lowly, "Give me _**one **_good reason I shouldn't _**fire**_ your ass…!"

Seemingly unafraid, Tony reached down without looking, staring Gibbs right back in the eye, and picked up the remote for the plasma screen. "_**That**_ good enough?" he snarled back.

( Seeing the two strong-willed agents head-to-head, McGee stood just outside the bull pen watching nervously, not wanting to be too close if either man exploded.)

Gibbs reluctantly turned his glare away from Tony and turned his head to look at the screen. When he saw the picture, he turned his entire body around to face the TV. He forgot all about being interrupted in interrogation. Tony watched shock and concern take over the anger on Gibbs' face. "Tell me," Gibbs ordered.

_**Now**_ Tony was nervous, but it had nothing to do with an angry boss. He, too, stared at the split screen with two very different pictures of Linnea Swanson on it, the one on the left a picture of her smiling - cropped from a picture of her with a group of friends out having fun. The picture on the right….her mug shot - messy hair, eyes red and watery, lips a tight, straight line. Quite obvious that she'd been crying. "We got trouble, boss."

_***NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS**NCIS***_

Gibbs charged into Bethesda Hospital like he owned the place, followed closely by Tony and Ducky. Gibbs wanted Ducky there as a witness to the injuries, and as his medical dictionary. He ignored the nurses trying to stop him and went straight for the duty nurse at the desk, flipping open his badge. "Linnea Swanson's room. _**Now.**_"

After seeing the name on the federal ID card, charge nurse Lt. Lisa Bradley believed her co-workers now about the rude, demanding senior special agent from NCIS. "I'm sorry, sir, but…"

"Linnea Swanson. _**Where is she, **_lieutenant?" Gibbs ordered from between clenched teeth.

She'd put up with worse in Iraq, she could handle this guy. "AS I tried to tell you, she's not….."

A familiar voice interrupted. "That's ok, Lieutenant, I'll take it from here."

The trio from NCIS turned. "Well hello, Brad," greeted Ducky jovially. Tony shook the doctor's hand, and Gibbs did the same.

"Doc," Gibbs said with a nod, going with the doc when he motioned them to.

"Heard you asking about Linnea Swanson," Dr. Pitt said casually as they walked down the hallway. "What's NCIS's interest in her?"

Gibbs and Tony shared a look. "She was sort of a suspect in an embezzling case about 18, 19 months ago," Tony said, quietly.

Brad stopped walking and looked at the agents. "'Sort of' a suspect?" He raised his eyebrows in confusion. "She was _**in**_ prison… must have been more than 'sort of.'"

Angry with himself, Tony turned away. Keeping an eye on him, Gibbs answered the doc. "She was framed. We knew it, but with the evidence, and lack of cooperation from another suspect - the _**real **_suspect - we couldn't prove it. She made a deal to serve her sentence in solitary." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "We got the federal prosecutor to go along with it. Figured solitary would be 'safer.'" He grimaced, wanting to hit something. Or someone.

Brad could see how badly these gentlemen felt. Knowing them as he did, he knew they had tried their best. But, even the best can backfire. He motioned them into his office, closing the door behind them. "I gather that you know what happened to Miss Swanson," he hedged.

"We know _**all**_ of it, Brad," Tony said darkly, clenching his fists.

"Good. Leaves less for me to tell," Brad said as he moved some files around on his desk. Finding the one he was looking for, he handed it to Ducky. "She was brought in to the ER by prison ambulance at 0330 this past Monday." He looked at Ducky when the older gentleman gasped softly as he read the chart. "Her blood pressure was 60 over 40, breathing shallow. She was unresponsive, and suffering from severe blood loss. Prison doctor said he had no idea why she was hemorrhaging." Brad shook his head. "It didn't take us more than a couple of minutes to figure out that she had miscarried. Fetus was approximately 25 weeks."

Ducky tsked and shook his head as he read. "Oh my," he sighed. "That poor girl," he murmured, shocked at what he was reading. Feeling Gibbs' eyes on him, he put things in laymans' terms. "Jethro, it's a miracle this dear girl even made it to the ER. The blood loss alone…not to mention the amount of pain she had to be in." Ducky looked up at Dr. Pitt. "If she was brought in immediately, what do you account for that amount of blood loss, doctor?"

Tony stood suddenly and began pacing. "Because it wasn't 'immediately.'" At the questioning looks from the rest of the group, he told what he knew. "She lay in her cell bleeding out for _**two hours**_ before anyone thought to come see what all the yelling on the block was about." Before he turned to pace back, he slammed a fist into the wall.

"Dear Lord!" muttered Ducky.

"You sure about this, Tony?" Brad asked, concerned.

Tony chuckled, shaking his hand out. "Straight from the cellblock, Doc."

All eyes jumped to Ducky as he sucked in a breath. The kindly M.E. raised his eyes to Gibbs and Tony. "This was no ordinary miscarriage, Jethro," he said as he held out the pictures. Aside from the blood, there were fresh large, dark bruises covering her abdomen. Older, yellowing bruises could be seen around her wrists and on her inner thighs. "It appears she had some help," he said angrily.

As expected, Gibbs showed no outward emotion to the photos. In any other situation, having worked homicide, Tony would have been objective about it. But knowing that _**he**_ bore part of the blame for this situation, he had to fight vomiting.

Handing the photos back to Ducky, Gibbs turned towards Tony. "'Ey. DiNozzo," he said gruffly. "Stop thinking' about the past. Focus on catching the bastards that did this, and taking them down."

With a nod, Tony returned to his seat.

"We're gonna' need to talk to Miss Swanson, Brad," Gibbs told the doctor, who suddenly looked sick to his stomach. The three NCIS members immediately got suspicious. "What," Gibbs asked, his gut screaming.

"She's not here." Brad mentally shot himself for signing her release form.

Gibbs glared at the doctor. "She almost _**died**_ from blood loss. Where the _**hell**_ is she?"

"_**Oh MY!"**_ Ducky interrupted. "They've sent her back to the prison infirmary!"

Pushing his chair back violently as he jumped up again, Tony said, "Great! Just send her back to the people that almost _**killed **_her. _**Nice going,**_ Brad!"

Ducky spoke up. "It was an order from the warden, Anthony. It's all right here. Once she was stabilized, she was to return and receive further treatment in the prison infirmary."

"Whatever I can do, Gibbs, whatever you need… I'd like to help," Brad said sadly. "I feel partially responsible."

Gibbs stood in front of Tony so he had to quit pacing. Tony let Gibbs see the pain in his eyes. "We gotta' fix this, boss. This never should have happened."

"Oh, we're gonna' fix it," Gibbs promised, a vengeful gleam in his eye. "Up for a little house cleaning, DiNozzo?" he asked with a dangerous grin.

'The prison staff will never know what hit them,' Ducky thought to himself, not feeling the least bit of guilt at that thought. 'Don't worry, dear girl, you've got Leroy Jethro Gibbs in your corner.' he looked once more at the sickening photos. 'Just hold on a little longer,' he silently willed her.

_**A/N - C'mon, ya'll! REVIEW already! This poor story is feeling sad and lonely without reviews! Don't make me have to share my Paxil with it! REVIEW PLEASE! And Mucho Thanks!**_

_**ALL PREVIOUS DISCLAIMERS ABOUT MY NOT OWNING OR RECEIVING ANYTHING FROM NCIS, CBS, ETC. STILL APPLY.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A SOLITARY ACT**_

_**CHAPTER 4**_

**RATED M FOR LANGUAGE AT THE BEGINNING OF THE CHAPTER.**

Trying not to flinch as the heavy metal doors clanged shut behind him, NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo - now known as Corrections Officer James Magnum (a mix of his two favorite cinematic heroes, James Bond and Magnum, P.I.) - kept his eyes forward, looking where he was going. He had to admit, it was quite different being on the law enforcement side of the slamming door sound. It had never bothered him until he'd been charged with murder and did some time in the joint. He still thanked God everyday that Abby Sciuto, Forensic Scientist Extraordinaire, was on _**his**_ side, and proved him innocent.

Arms by his side as he walked, he kept bumping into his penitentiary-issued side arm at his waist. He usually wore a shoulder holster at work, but that could be dangerous in the pen. Straps would give inmates something to choke you with in a riot situation. He'd have to learn not to show his awkwardness with it on his belt.

"This is H Block, our long-term solitary women's unit. This will be your primary station on every shift." Shift supervisor Rita Hanson opened the door to the block. "Male CO's are basically just back-up here in the women's pen. All transfers, routine checks, searches and the like, are all done by our female CO's. All the other blocks have a full staff of round the clock female officers, but, H Block being more of a lock-down situation, there's generally only 2, maybe 3 females on the night shift." She led him down the hall. "It gets re-e-eal quiet in here at night. Hope you like to read."

Tony smiled easily. "I'm sure I can find _something_ to occupy my time."

Rita rolled her eyes. "No doubt," she huffed sarcastically. As they came toward the end of the row, they could see a cell search going on. The cell's occupant, a washed-out blonde, wiry, older woman was cursing the female CO searching her cell.

"You got no cause to be doin' this!" She yelled. "I ain't done nuthin' wrong, and you _**know**_ it, dyke-bitch!"

The male CO in charge of the prisoner rapped her in the back with his nightstick. "'Ey, chill out, Doris. Why not make it easy on yourself and just tell us where the stuff is. None of us wants to do a strip-search this time of night."

Doris just snarled at the man. "Fuck you, pig! I ain't got nuthin. You can look all night long, but you won't find nuthin, cuz there _**ain't**_ nuthin to find."

Small, personal items were being tossed out the open door. "Your celly back on C Block told us about the pills you had smuggled in, Doris," the female CO yelled from inside the cell. "That's one of the reasons you'rein the Hole. And you know me, Doris. I'll interrupt your beauty sleep every night until we find it."

The older woman snickered. "Go right ahead, queen bitch. You can't find what ain't there." Another whack to the back with the nightstick almost knocked the breath right out of her.

Tony - rather, _**James,**_ had seen enough. "'Ey, man. There's easier ways to get what you want out of these skells."

The male CO gave 'James' a snide look. "You think you can get something outta' this ol' broad?" He looked at his female partner in the cell. "Then she's all yours, officer," he said.

'James' walked over to Doris. "'Ey sweetheart," he smiled, the DiNozzo smile on full-power. Touching her lightly on the arm, he turned on the charm. "Tell ol' Jimmy, here, the truth. You hidin' anything you know you're not supposed to have?"

Like most women, Doris fell prey to the DiNozzo Charm Spell. "I don't got anything in here, man. It's all back on C Block," she grumbled. "Although that bitch roomy of mine back there probably sold it all already, seeing as she was so hot to rat me out."

Giving her the patented raised eyebrow, 'James' made her look in his eyes. "You lyin' to me, Doris? I don't wanna be disappointed…."

"Truth, CO. Go raid _her_ rack, you'll find the baggie for sure."

With a last look in Doris' eyes, 'James' could tell she was telling him the truth. "You won't find anything here," he told the other officers. "Doris is telling the truth."

The two CO's looked at each other. The male laughed. "Just because she says there isn't anything to find? How'd you rank officer, Officer? She's in prison for a _reason_, she isn't losing anything by lying."

With a wink at the older inmate, 'James' smiled. "Nah, Doris wouldn't lie to me. None of 'em can," he admitted cockily.

The female CO, having torn the sparse cell apart, gave 'James' the benefit of the doubt. "There's nuthin' here, Sully. I'll radio over to C Block, have her crib over there tossed." She waved Doris back into the cell, slamming the door behind her, undoing her cuffs when she stuck her hands through the food slot. Without a word, she and the male guard, Sully, turned and left.

Rita just shook her head. "I can see now why you were transferred here from the state pen. You don't make lots of friends, do ya'?" She turned and followed the other 2 officers out.

Making sure he couldn't be seen or overheard, Tony took a letter out of his shirt pocket and handed it through the food slot in Doris' cell door. "Thanks for your help, Doris. This came for you from your granddaughter."

There was a small sniffle from behind the solid metal door. "Thank you, Agent…"

"_**Officer,"**_ Tony quickly corrected. "Officer Magnum, Doris." And with that, Tony walked out of H Block, secure in the knowledge that thanks to Doris' help, he'd made a good showing with Officer Mike Sullivan. Next step - befriend the prick and get him to bring Tony in on his nightly routine. Thinking ahead to taking Sullivan down, Tony couldn't help the small smile on his lips.

_**********************NCIS**********NCIS**********************_

After an informational breakfast with DiNozzo, who'd just gotten off his very first 11pm-7am prison shift, Gibbs made his way to NCIS. He stopped off at the lab to see Abby before going up to the bull pen. "Abbs?"

The happy goth forensic scientist turned from her computer. "Almost finished, bossman. Give me an hour. I want to make sure McGee and Ziva's aliases can stand up to even the most rigorous of background checks. But their credentials are good to go, fresh out of the laminator." She hands Gibbs several forms of picture ID for both Ziva and McGee. "Although, I gotta say that I think the glasses are a little too much on McGee. He looks even nerdier than he really is. Maybe if he went for wire frames instead of the thick black ones. I mean, I know he's supposed to look all professional and everything, but he looks so….anal. Well, more anal than usual….maybe that comes with those glasses frames….."

Gibbs smiled and gave Abby a peck on the cheek, and made his way up to the bull pen. He tossed Ziva and McGee's ID badges on their desks as he passed by.

"Hey, boss," greeted Tim. "Did you talk to Tony this morning? How'd it go?"

Sitting at his desk, Gibbs turned on his computer to check his email. "He's in." He smirked. "He always said he does his best work at night."

McGee and Ziva were looking over their alias' ID and licenses. "Awww man," McGee whined. "I knew those glasses were too much. I look like a stick-in-the-mud."

Ziva walked over and looked at his new ID. She looked confused. "You are not dirty in any of these photos, McGee."

"It's an expression, Ziva," explained McGee. "It means someone's prudish or no fun. Lacking a sense of humor."

"Well, then, yes, the new McGee does look rather muddish." Seeing that he'd taken that as an insult, she hastily continued, "I am not all that pleased with _**my **_new look, either, McGee. See? I look very schlub, yes?"

Looking at Ziva's alias' photos, he saw that she looked very plain-Jane-ish. "I think you mean 'drab,' Ziva. The new you is kind of plain. A schlub is a lazy, oafish kind of person."

Ziva smirked. "Ah! Like Tony, yes?" She and McGee shared a smile, just because they could get away with saying those kinds of things about Tony because he wasn't there.

Gibbs hid his smile at his junior agents' conversation. "Be ready within the hour. Abby's just double checking your backgrounds. And McGee…. You only need to wear the glasses to read." He smirked at the younger man's fist-pump in the air. "Are you two going to be able to be in the same room together?" he jokingly asked McGee, who just smiled.

Seeing this, Ziva needed to ask, "Why would we not be able to be in the same room? We are both working on the same side, are we not?"

McGee explained for her. "My alias is a Harvard University graduate. Yours graduated from Yale University."

"So? They are both excellent schools, yes? Bush league schools?"

"_**Ivy**_-League schools, and yes, they're both excellent universities," McGee said patiently, "it's just that there's a huge rivalry between Yale and Harvard - they're both highly regarded universities, they both have the crème de la crème students….there's an imagined competition between them to see which is the better school, academically and on the ball field."

Ziva nodded in understanding. "So _**my **_alias has a better education than yours, then," she teased, and snickered when McGee almost fell for it.

"'Ey! Bobbsey Twins!" interrupted Gibbs. "Go get changed, I'll meet you down with Ducky in 30 minutes." He shook his head as he watched the two agents walk away, wondering between themselves who the 'Bobbsey Twins' were. Some days, he wondered if he was too old for this job.

_*********************NCIS*****NCIS**********************_

Walking into autopsy 30 minutes later, Gibbs did a double-take. If he didn't know these were aliases, he almost wouldn't have recognized his two agents. Ducky's finishing touches really brought the characters to life.

"Ah! Jethro!" Ducky turned as Gibbs walked in. "May I introduce Timothy MacDonald, Assistant Attorney to the general counsel of NCIS," he gestured to McGee. "And Sela Davis, Attorney at Law," he grandly pointed to Ziva.

He couldn't help the smirk. His junior agents were right - their aliases _**were**_ drab fuddy-duddies! Plain, boxy suits in shades of gray and beige, hair severely and conservatively styled, hefty-looking briefcases, and sensible shoes.

Ziva tugged at the ridiculous bow on her blouse's collar, trying to loosen it a bit. "I cannot believe there are people that really dress like this voluntarily," she griped. "I feel _**ridiculous!**_"

McGee scratched at his neck where the collar of his cheap, woolen suit coat rubbed uncomfortably against his skin. "I will never tease Tony about his suits again," he grumbled. He and Ziva both froze, like deer in the headlights. "Ohhh, boss. Please tell us that Tony won't be anywhere around to see this," McGee begged.

"He's home sleeping after working all night. Get up to Abby's before I call him myself….." the young agents fairly ran for the elevator to go up to the lab. With a chuckle, Gibbs followed. "Good work, Duck!" he called over his shoulder. After a quick trip to finalize their new identities with Abby, Gibbs was off to the prison with two of NCIS' newest attorneys.

_**********************NCIS*****NCIS*********************_

Somewhere across town, a cell phone chimed the arrival of a text message. A drowsy hand grabbed up the phone and opened it, opening up the photo message. Hysterical laughter rang through the darkened apartment, as it did for the rest of the day whenever the pictures - now printed off the phone into 8X11 glossy pictures - came into view.

_**A/N - **_**Just kind of a filler chapter, all the characters finding a way into the prison to help poor Linnea, who we'll see again in the next chapter, I think. Please, please, PLEASE review if you're reading this! My low self-esteem could really use the boost! THANK YOU to all the new favoriters and alerters who just discovered our little story - each and every one of you makes my day!**

_**A/N 2 - **_**Still own **_**- **_**and receive **_**- **_**nothing from anyone who has anything to do with NCIS in any way, shape, or form. Bummer, dude!**


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N - **_**Having absolutely NO knowledge whatsoever about lawyers and how they work (Hey, I'm a Goody-Two-Shoes, don't blame me!), I am taking a LOT of dramatic license in this chapter - and any chapters following that have anything to do with lawyer-ing in any way. I'm bending laws left and right I'm sure, but I plead the 5****th**** - and total ignorance. Let's just say all my legal knowledge comes from watching 'Jack McCoy' never losing a case on 'Law and Order.' Same goes for all my medical knowledge, which I learned most of on reruns of 'ER.'**

_**A/N 2 - **_**Still giving and getting nuthin' from anyone or anything connected to NCIS, CBS, etc., etc.**

_**A SOLITARY ACT**_

_**Chapter 5**_

The penitentiary warden found it a little odd that not only did an NCIS investigator show up to do interviews, but he showed up with not one but _**two**_ lawyers. "I don't know what you're looking to find by questioning the women in our Solitary block, Agent Gibbs. It's called 'Solitary' for a reason. No fraternization with anyone else, 23 hour a day solitude."

"You are denying us access to potential witnesses, Warden Williams?" Ziva's eyebrows rose. Sela, her lawyer role, wrote something down on a legal pad she'd fished out of her overflowing briefcase.

The warden's face started to turn beet red. "No. No, no. I just found it a little…odd…is all." He looked around the small group seated in front of his desk. "Having the three of you here is odd."

Tim adjusted his fake glasses. "As head of the NCIS legal department, I like to be thorough, make sure there's no fault on the part of NCIS. It _**was**_ our agency that put Ms….." he paused, pretending to check his notes. "…Swanson here. We need to be sure that there's no mishandling on our part."

"I can surely understand that," the warden agreed with a smile. "We've got our own lawyers going over everything with a fine-toothed comb, looking for any signs of impropriety."

Gibbs glared at the rotund man. "A woman under solitary confinement in _**your **_jail became _**pregnant**_ while in _**your**_ custody, warden. I think there may have been some '_**impropriety'**_ going on, don't you?"

Spluttering and hemming and hawing, the warden stood up. "Come on, then. We'll take you to one of the conference rooms." Scant moments later, as the agents settled in in the conference room, the warden sent for the first name on Gibbs' list - names provided by Janice as being friendly with Linnea.

"LaShonda, these people are from NCIS, they need to ask you questions about Linnea Swanson." The warden ushered the rough-looking black woman to a chair at the table and motioned for the guard to chain her to the chair.

Gibbs laid a folder on the table. "Ms. Reece, I'm Special Agent Gibbs. This is Timothy MacDonald, head of our legal department, and Sela Davis, an attorney for the state." He looked her in the eye. "Do you want to have your lawyer present?"

The hard, brown eyes took stock of the man in front of her, and she decided to trust what she saw. "Do I need one?" she asked confrontationally.

Before the warden could interrupt, Gibbs looked at the man with a glare of his own. "You can go now. We'll call ya' if we need ya'." He held the glare until the porcine man got the hint and left with a huff. "No, Ms. Reece, you don't need a lawyer, you're not in any trouble. In fact, we'd like your help."

"_**My**_ help?" the woman cackled. "Why would one of the alphabets need the help of a con like me?"

Ziva and Tim looked at each other and then to Gibbs. He gave them a slight nod. "Ms. Reece, my name is _**not**_ Sela Davis, and I am not an attorney for the state, although for the moment we would like Mr. Williams and the other prison staff to believe so. I am special agent Ziva David, also with NCIS, and this is my partner, special agent Timothy McGee."

LaShonda looked around between the three agents before her, wondering why they were trying to pull one over on the warden. With a wary look, she agreed. "Ok, I won't say nuthin'. _**Yet.**_ Like I said, what does an alphabet want with _**me**_?"

Gibbs took over the conversation. "Janice Thompson gave us your name, said you were on good terms with Linnea Swanson. That true?"

"Maybe," LaShonda stated suspiciously, crossing her arms over her torso. "Who wants to know?"

Gibbs folded his hands on the file in front of him. "People who want to help her, who want to get her out of here." He met LaShonda's stare with his own.

"Kinda' funny," she said sarcastically, "since _**you**_ the ones that put her here."

Seeing that Gibbs was beginning to get frustrated, Ziva picked up the discussion. "We are aware that we have made a serious mistake, in putting Ms. Swanson behind bars. Rest assured that we certainly never expected anything like this to occur."

LaShonda leaned as far over the table as she could, chained to her chair as she was. " 'Never expected anything like this to occur'? What did you _**think**_ would happen to someone like her in here? Here's a hint, lady. This ain't Club Med. This is God damned _**prison**_. It ain't for everyone. It's 'get tough or get eaten.' Someone like Nay-Nay? She was just fresh meat in here." She sat back and pointed towards the NCIS trio. "And you all just threw her into the shark tank. Do you have any idea what happens to nice girls like her in here?"

Ziva looked down and swallowed around the lump in her throat, knowing that she knew better than most what could happen in prison, after her time in Somalia. She cleared her throat. "Actually, Ms. Reece," she said softly, "unfortunately I have a very good idea of what Ms. Swanson has gone through." Pushing thoughts of Somalia to the back of her mind, Ziva straightened and took a deep breath. "I was lucky enough to have people that worked very hard and risked their lives to rescue me." She looked the inmate in the eye. "Now, we would like to do the same for Ms. Swanson."

LaShonda scoffed. "Well, too little, too late, far as _**I'm**_ concerned." She scrutinized the three agents. "But I guess it ain't about me, is it?" She made a point to look in each agent's eye, and judged the younger guy to be the soft sell - if anyone was going to cave, it would be him. She gave him her hardest glare. "You serious? 'bout getting Nay-Nay outta here?"

McGee surprised himself by not being intimidated by the glare. "It's a guarantee, Ms. Reece. No one wants her out of here more than we do." Trying to lighten the mood a little, he joked, "do you think we'd go to all the trouble to dress like this without a good reason?" He flicked his ugly tie, gestured to his less-than-stylish suit.

The hardened inmate studied McGee then Ziva, lips pursed. She pointed to Ziva. "Her? No. You?" She studied McGee again. "Hell yeah, every day."

Ziva put her head down so McGee wouldn't see her smirk, and Gibbs just out-and-out smiled.

"Ok. You say you want my help springing Nay-Nay. What I gotta' do?"

Gibbs smiled and opened the file in front of him, passing photos across the table for her to look at.

_**********************NCIS****NCIS****NCIS**********************_

After interviewing several current and former solitary inmates, Gibbs decided someone should go and actually _**see**_ Linnea, talk to her if possible. McGee volunteered.

Outside the infirmary, the female guard paused. "You'll be disappointed if you're planning on talking to Swanson."

McGee shifted his large briefcase to his other hand. "Why's that?"

"She sleeps most of the day. She's on heavy pain meds, and a sedative." She smirked sarcastically. "But the doctor assures us 'it looks worse than it really is.'" She pulled out her keys and unlocked the door, ushering the "lawyer" into the medical suite. She introduced him to the chief nurse on duty, and who he was there to talk to. The nurse snorted and walked down the hall, waving for him to follow. She stopped at the curtain to one of the patient cubicles and swung it open. "Good luck," she said sarcastically, and turned and walked away.

McGee approached the bed cautiously, not wanting to startle Linnea. She was on her side, facing away from the door. He cleared his throat. "Uh, excuse me, Ms. Swanson?" He waited a moment and spoke again, a little elouder this time. When she didn't answer or show any sign that she'd heard him at all, he walked around the bed. What he saw sucked the air right out of his lungs.

He'd been an agent for many years now, had seen all manners of abuse, torture, death…. But he knew that he would never forget the sight of Linnea Swanson's mottled and swollen face, bruises upon bruises.

"And that's not the worst of it."

The quiet voice from the doorway startled him. It was a younger nurse, very kind-looking. "You were staring at the bruises on her face. Those aren't the worst of her injuries."

"Yes, I know, I've seen the ER photos." At her raised eyebrow, he backtracked a bit and held out his hand. "Timothy… MacDonald," he said, almost forgetting his persona. "Head of the legal department of NCIS. I just wanted to come down….. See it for myself." He gestured at the sleeping woman. "See if it was really as bad as the pictures made it out to be."

The nurse crossed her arms, her anger coming through. "And?" It sounded more like a command than a question.

McGee swallowed and took a last look at Linnea, lying there helpless. "Trust me, ma'am. The pictures didn't do it justice." He turned and swiftly walked out of the infirmary, leaning on the wall outside the locked door. He shook his head. Whatever happened, there was no way Tony should ever see Linnea the way she is right now. No telling what the already angry agent would do. Taking a deep breath, McGee made his way back to the conference room where Gibbs and Ziva were awaiting his report.

_**********************NCIS****NCIS****NCIS**********************_

_The hands. They were always there, touching, pinching, holding her down. Rough, painful. And the laughing. He wanted her to struggle, wanted her to cry. She'd tried to hold it in, but after a while, she just couldn't anymore. She gave him the very thing that got him off. He treated her like a sexual slave - whenever, wherever he wanted, and he'd shown her what would happen if she didn't allow him to use her. Pregnant. A baby. He'd gotten her pregnant during one of his "sessions." It didn't matter to him at first, but once she'd started showing, he'd become angry, accusing her of trying to trap him. Like becoming pregnant was her fault, and hers alone. The "sessions" got rougher, raunchier. She knew her blockmates could hear everything, knew they knew what was happening to her almost every night now, and she was embarrassed. She should have stopped this before it got this far. Should have said something to someone. _

_And then…..pain. Just searing pain through her lower body. Screaming. Oh God, there's blood. So much blood. She's going to die. She never told anyone, kept it to herself, like he'd told her to. And now she was going to die. Nothing less than she deserved._

_White lights. White walls. Beeping machines…hospital. Hurried voices, "stat!" "bp's dropping!" "got a clot here…." "not a clot…" "fetus" "miscarriage" …..she was still alive. The never-ending pain told her that. There isn't all this pain when you're dead, is there? ….."stable…" "you nuts? …needs…hospital…." "prepare….transport back….prison"_

_Prison. Maybe she's dead after all….sting of a needle… floating. That's all there was now. Floating._


	6. Chapter 6

_**\ A SOLITARY ACT**_

_**C**_**hapter 6**

Tony had been undercover as a corrections officer for about two weeks, and despite everything he'd done - or _appeared _to have done, he hadn't broken Officer Mike Sullivan's inner circle of friends.

After the first few nights, Tony had told Gibbs that Sullivan was on his best behavior, so Gibbs had told Tony to do what he had to, to gain Sullivan's trust. Gibbs gave him a list of inmates currently in solitary that would help him out with whatever he needed.

So off and on for the past fourteen nights, Tony had picked a female inmate to "visit." He would make sure Sullivan saw him giving spot inspections, standing way too close when he frisked the inmate, overhearing Tony tell the con that he'd have to do a strip search. He'd hang out in the cell with the female inmate, talking or playing cards, making the appropriate noises if they heard someone coming down the wing. Then he'd time exiting the cell so Sullivan could watch him leave, tucking in his uniform shirt or re-buckling his utility belt.

Yet still, Sullivan hadn't approached him. Just as Tony was thinking it was time to call the op a wash and just take Sullivan down, the fish took the bait.

Tony was updating his duty log when he heard the tell-tale clatter of uniform shoes behind him. A fairly thick file landed on the desk next to his arm. Glancing at it, he saw that it was his doctored personnel file from the state pen, where he supposedly had been transferred from. For disciplinary reasons. He pushed it aside and looked up at his shift partner, his target, Officer Mike Sullivan. Sully. Tony raised an eyebrow in Sully's direction. "I've already read it." He snorted. "Hell, I _lived_ it." Glancing from his file to Sully, he smiled slyly. "Find anything…interesting…in there?"

Sully stood just inside the office door, not sure how to take this new guy. If he hadn't read it for himself, he wouldn't have believed it, that someone else shared his hobby. Hell, if that file was to be believed, Magnum here, was more prolific at it than he was. He walked further into the office. "You've been a bad boy, Officer Magnum." He sat with one knee on the desk.

"Depends on your definition of 'bad.'" Opening up the file and reading a few charges, Tony smirked. Abby had outdone herself with these! "In fact, some of these were pretty damned good. If you know what I mean." He winked at Sully, shutting the file again.

Sully smiled. "Well, that kind of thing may be allowed upstate, Magnum. But not here. So keep your nose clean." He stood. "Let's take a walk."

Tony looked at the clock on the wall. "Not time for rounds."

Now Sully smirked. "Rita left a few places off your tour. C'mon, I'll show ya'."

Tony walked with Sully into the old section of the jail that was no longer in use except as storage. He watched as the other officer pulled out a separate set of keys. "Man, those are ancient!"

"So's this section of the building. Come on." Sully tossed the old cage door open and walked through. "Just a warning - the cages in this part of the building only open from the outside with a key. Not a problem here in the tombs, but make sure you either leave the outside door open or put something over the lock. That also lets everyone know someone's down here." He led Tony far enough into the caged ward that no one would see or hear them. As he turned, he saw Magnum had his hand on his Sig and was standing alert. He chuckled. "Ya' don't need that, Mag. I'm just showing you a secret place only a select few know about."

Tony looked around. "I can see why. Not exactly the Hilton, is it?" He walked around a bit, checking out the area, casually noting the waste baskets with used condoms in them. He spun in a circle with his arms spread wide. "What's so special about this dump?"

Sully looked as if he was giving Tony the key to the kingdom. "Let's just say that…it's not always possible to….do what we do….in the comfort of the cell block. You want real privacy, you come down here. May not look like much, but it's got it's creature comforts." He walked down the corridor to the end of the hall. "Shower room. One of the other CO's is also a licensed plumber. It's got all new pipes, all new fixtures. Going back on shift afterward, just hop in and out, you're good to go."

Tony hoped he was acting suitably impressed. Damn, this went further than just one blight in the system, there was a whole Boys' Club of rapists operating in this prison. "Must have known I was coming." At the other guard's confused look, Tony flashed his 'good ol' boy' smile. "Aw come on, man. You read my file. 'Allowing female prisoners extra time in the shower'? Didn't think I did that outta' the goodness of my heart, did ya'?" The two officers chuckled. "Yeah, nothing like a little 'slip 'n' slide' to start the day off right, know what I mean?" It took everything in him to leer and not gag. He knew he'd been convincing when Sully walked past and gave him a hearty slap on the back. With one last look around, he followed the other man with a sigh. A look at his watch showed him he had another five hours left before his shift was over. He should be thrilled that he'd accomplished his first goal, but all he could do was picture all manners of young women going through hell down here. And the most prominent face was Linnea Swanson's. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat, knowing he couldn't afford to let his feelings get in the way.

Five more hours until he could leave and wash off the stink of this place. It was going to be a long night.

_**NCIS**********NCIS*********NCIS*****NCIS****NCIS*****NCIS***********NCIS************_

_Prison Infirmary_

Dr. Brad Pitt stood outside the prison infirmary in a stalemate with not only the prison doctor, but the warden as well.

"….not necessary for you to have access to the patient. She belongs to the prison system's medical facility."

"Dr. Myers," Brad began, taking a step closer into the prison doc's space, "that young woman _belongs_ to no one but herself. And I wouldn't be a very good doctor if I didn't follow through on a case with suspicious circumstances such as this one."

The warden was nervous. He didn't need anyone sticking their noses into _his_ prison's business. Bad enough he had to allow NCIS to check his records, he didn't need some military doctor telling him what to do. "Dr. Pitt, I do admire your dedication to your patients, but Ms. Swanson is still a convicted felon, which makes her medical care _our_ responsibility. You did your job in stabilizing the inmate, now it's our turn to finish treating her so she can return to completing her sentence."

Brad knew when he was being stonewalled. These two idiots were hiding something. "Fine, then," he capitulated. "Let me see her chart, so I can close out our record, and I'll be on my way."

Dr. Myers and Warden Williams shared an uneasy look, and the prison doctor sputtered and stammered. "Uh, well, while this _is_ a prison, I am still bound by doctor/patient confidentiality. Surely you understand, Dr. Pitt." He smiled nervously.

Brad was so going to enjoy this. "Let me see if I'm understanding the laws surrounding inmate privilege correctly." He took a step closer to the doctor. "Prisoners are considered wards of the state, correct?"

With a shaky glance at the warden, the doctor voiced his agreement.

"And the state follows the rules for rights and privileges set by the government." He was now directly in the other doctor's face.

"Th-that would be correct, doctor," stammered the trembling prison doctor.

Brad pointed to the silver oak leaf on his lapel. "I _am_ the government, Dr. Myers. And when it comes to the health and welfare of a prison inmate, if it is so deemed necessary, a doctor from outside the prison system is to be allowed access to any patient in the prison medical ward." He had to keep himself from smiling when the other man began to sweat. Gibbs was right - there was something big going on in here, and Ms. Swanson was only the tip of the iceberg.

After a scared look from Dr. Myers, Warden Williams jumped in. "Well, yes, of course, Dr. Pitt, that's true." He smiled confidently. "But only with a warrant signed not only by a sitting judge, but…"

"….but by the governor as well?" Brad pulled the signed warrant from his pocket. "Funny, all I had to do was mention pregnancy and prison, and the man was more than happy to sign." His eyes burned into Dr. Myers. "We'll be seeing Ms. Swanson now." The nurses with him pushed past the warden and the sketchy doctor and entered the medical ward. "We'll need all medical records, past and current, attending medical personnel logs, visitor logs, treatment records, staff notes, and anything else that may pertain to the care of Ms. Swanson." Brad stepped through the door, turning to bar the warden and doctor to enter. "You can understand the need for privacy, I'm sure. It's that pesky doctor/patient privilege thing. You can wait out here." He turned to the MP he'd brought along just for this type of thing. "Officer, see to it that no one from this facility interrupts my examination of the patient. Per order of the governor of the state of Virginia, the Navy is taking over this case. While she may be incarcerated, this is a federal facility, giving us jurisdiction. Anyone tries to get past, arrest them." Brad stalked down the hall as the MP took his position in front of the door, in a relaxed, yet attentive state.

_Bethesda Naval Hospital_

_Six hours later_

"You're right, Gibbs," said Dr. Pitt, ushering Gibbs and Ducky into his office. "There's something going on out there." He sat behind his desk. "I had the attending physician's file pulled. He's a prison doc because he couldn't hack a hospital. Three patient negligence complaints, not to mention complaints from other medical staff. He also had a problem with following his attending's direction."

Gibbs sighed. "So he applies at a prison, gets to be his own boss, make his own rules." He grimaced when Brad nodded.

"The girl, Bradley. How was she?"

Taking out his notes, he handed the file to Ducky. "See for yourself. Better than the last time I saw her, but still at risk."

"What's it say, Duck?"

Ducky read over the file, gleaning the important facts that Gibbs would want to know. "Well, her blood pressure is still rather low. Not dangerously so, if she weren't injured, but in her condition, and given her blood loss, I'm worried that she hasn't received a transfusion of any kind. Bruises healing…Bradley, what's this about recent bruising?"

Brad sighed. "It appears someone has been restraining Ms. Swanson. The bruising around her wrists and ankles are no older than a couple of days, at most. Although, she's so sedated most of the time, I don't know why they would need to restrain."

"What kind of sedation we talking about, Doc?" Gibbs looked concerned.

"Oh my…yes, very clever," Ducky muttered to himself. "Jethro, it appears they're staggering the use of several different sedatives, muscle relaxants, and pain medication to keep her sufficiently subdued."

Gibbs looked between the two doctors. "This something that we can prove with blood analysis?"

"Quite easily," said Ducky. "I believe the appropriate idiom in this case would be, she's got enough in her system to choke a horse."

"Well then, we need to get out there and get some blood…"

Brad smiled. "Already done. We've got one vial being tested here…"

Gibbs stood. "No offense, doc, but I want _our_ lab checking it out."

"….another vial was already sent to NCIS and Ms. Sciuto. I know you'd only trust what she finds."

Ducky returned the file to Brad and stood. The three gentlemen shook hands.

Before they could leave, Brad addressed Gibbs. "If you need anything else….from me or the Navy…..you've got it, Gibbs. Whatever you need."

Thinking about Linnea Swanson and all that had happened, Gibbs got angry. "Make sure you have plenty of hospital beds for when this is over. Not that there'll be too many left alive to need 'em." He stormed out of Brad's office, leaving Ducky and Brad to share a concerned, knowing look.

_**NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS*****NCIS****NCIS*****NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**_

**A/N - I know this is short, and I know I promised some Linnea, but I'm a little writer's blocked, so I went with what came to me. Hope you like this chapter. If any of ya'll have ideas for the next chapter, PLEASE let me know! Thanks, ya'll!**

_**DISCLAIMER - **_**I have nothing to do with anything that remotely resembles NCIS, I'm just very grateful they let us play with their creations.**

**PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEAS W! I need something to make me smile….**


	7. Chapter 7

_**A SOLITARY ACT**_

**Chapter 7**

Tony stopped around the corner from the infirmary and took a deep breath. He couldn't stand it anymore - he'd worked here almost three weeks now, and he just couldn't do it. He couldn't _not_ look in on Linnea anymore. Gibbs and Ducky had both told him to stay away, for his own good. But when had Tony DiNozzo ever done anything for his own good? _He _was one of the reasons she was here, and he'd never forgive himself for this. So he _had_ to see her, just to be able to tell himself that he'd seen her with his own two eyes, and she was ok. Well, not _ok_, she wouldn't still be in the infirmary if she were _ok._

Putting on his best confused look, Tony rounded the corner and opened the door to the infirmary. Seeing a nurse look up at him, he smiled. "Well, this isn't the way to the break room." The nurse smiled back. "Sorry, I'm kind of new here, and got a little turned around," he squinted to read her nametag, "Maria."

Maria Suarez, R.N. smiled. Oh, he was a hottie! "That's ok, Officer…..?"

"Anth….an idiot! Sorry, I'm James Magnum. Just transferred in from upstate a few weeks ago."

"Well, Officer James Magnum, it's easy to get lost around here, it's a big place." She shifted her pose, subtly drawing attention to her breasts. Which, had Tony not been on a mission, he normally would have fallen for.

Tony did the expected and dipped his eyes to her ample cleavage, then back to her eyes. "If I'd known the nurses here were this beautiful, I would've gotten lost a lot sooner…." He smiled, displaying the white DiNozzo teeth. He spent a few minutes flirting with Nurse Maria, charming her, gaining her trust. He needed someone to keep him updated on Linnea. "So, Maria. Show me around your place, here. It's bigger than the one upstate."

Maria walked very slowly, making sure to brush against him at every opportunity. She pointed out the different units as they continued down the hall.

"Seems quiet tonight. Not a lot of guests?" Tony joked.

"This is the women's infirmary. We're usually pretty quiet. The men's wing is where all the action is."

Tony stopped and crowded her against the wall, getting up close and personal. "Not up for a lot of…._action_?" He asked slyly.

Maria put her hands on 'James'' biceps and gave a little squeeze. "Stabbings and beatings aren't exactly my idea of a good time. There are much better ways to spend the time." She smiled a sultry smile and rubbed her breasts against his chest. 'James' put his hands on the wall next to her head and leaned in, eyes dropping to her lips.

Tony's lips had just brushed Maria's when there was a sound from inside the room they were next to. Saved by the moan, Tony thought. "Sounds like you need to get back to work." He saw Maria grimace at the interruption, but quickly spring back to work mode.

Maria checked her watch as she entered the darkened room and pulled the patient's chart. Tony followed. He'd snuck a peek at the room assignments and knew this was Linnea's - that's why he'd cornered Maria right outside. Getting in had been easier than he'd planned! He stepped quietly to the side of the bed. His first glimpse of her in a year and a half was of her black and blue wrists. This wasn't old bruising, it was still purple. The girl was as good as unconscious, and someone was restraining her?

Linnea whimpered again and curled up to protect her stomach, probably dreaming of the attack, Tony thought. As she burrowed her head deeper into the pillow, he caught a look at the side of her face. He must have made some kind of noise, because Maria spoke. "Horrible, isn't it? Poor thing. She's been here almost a month. I've never seen bruising like this."

Tony tried to speak, but found his throat dry. "Wha…what happened?"

Maria took Linnea's vitals while she talked. "I don't know the whole story, just what's happened since she came here from Bethesda. Rumor has it she tried to blackmail one of the CO's, and when he wouldn't help her out, she got belligerent, almost started a riot, the way I heard it. She had to be 'subdued.'"

Looking at Maria, Tony saw that she wasn't buying the story anymore than he was. "A real firecracker, huh?" Maria left the room to get Linnea's next dose of sedative. While she was gone, Tony glanced over Linnea's medical chart. He didn't understand some of it, but he got the general idea. Things inside her were ripped and torn, multiple hematomas (a much better way of saying 'patient took a beating,' he thought), extreme blood loss, fractured mandible, possible ruptured ear drum - too much swelling at examination to be sure. Pregnancy in 24th to 26th week stage, spontaneously aborted due to repeated blunt force trauma to mother's belly. This was making him sick. He closed the chart just as Maria came back with the medication. "What are you giving her? Demerol? Morphine?"

Scoffing, Maria inserted the needle into Linnea's arm after prepping it, and pressed the plunger. "We don't want her to become addicted to pain meds, so we rotate times and meds. This was a muscle relaxant. What good it does for those bruises, I'll never know. But then, " she smirked sarcastically, "I'm not the doctor." She disposed of the needle in the biohazard waste bin and started to exit.

With one last glance over his shoulder at Linnea, Tony followed her out, and they walked to the lobby. He made a show of checking his watch. "Oh wow, I'd better skedaddle if I don't want to be late back to work." He ran his fingers gently over Maria's cheek, still keeping up the pretense. "First time I've ever not minded getting lost."

She held his hand. "You'll have to do it more often."

"I guess I will." He looked back at her as he reached the door and gave her a wink, and left.

Maria sighed and headed back for her desk. She had just sat down when the outside door opened again.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt again, but, uhm….. How do I get back to H Block?" Tony gave his best sheepish look, and Maria laughed, coming to the door and pointing out the directions. "Thanks again, Nurse Maria. You're real good at saving people!"

She blushed and gave him a gentle push. "Go on, get back to work, Officer Magnum." She watched him walk away, until he'd turned the corner and was out of sight. The buzzing of a patient's call button sent her back in to work.

_**NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**_

_6 AM_

_A Bar, Somewhere in Washington, DC_

Tony raised the hand with the empty glass in it, signaling the bartender that he needed another refill. "Hey, man, I think you've had enough. You've been here two hours and done nothing but chain-drink."

"S'rry, Mikey…was a bad nigh' a' work. Ever ha' one a' those? Yep, jus' a ba-a-a-aad night."

The bartender rolled his eyes. "Dude… Tony. Everyone in here has had a bad night. That's why they're here."

Tony looked around. "Well, 'course they all ha' a bad night. _But._ Were they the re-reason for it being bad? The night. Bad. Bad night. Hey! Mikey! Wha' time'zit?"

"Just after 6 AM." He poured a cup of coffee and put it in front of Tony. "And it's _Joe_, not Mikey. Been telling you that all night, man."

"Pfffft!" Tony almost fell off his stool. "You don' look like a Joe. You lo-look like a Mikey. Cuz tha's your name. Mikey. M-i-k-e-y..M-o-u-s-eeeeeeee! See? You're Mikey."

"Whatever, man." He tried to escape down the bar.

"Wait, wai, wai, wait. Wha time'zit?"

Joe sighed. "6:07 AM, five minutes later than the last time you asked."

Tony shook his head. "Awwwww man, I'm s'pose a' meet him fer bre'fas' in….fifty-three min-minutes. Maybe I should call 'im, tell 'im no' comin'." He pulled out his cellphone, having trouble opening it up, until the bartender turned it around for him. Then he couldn't see his contact numbers. "Ey, Mikey, Mikey, _you_ call 'im. He won' ye-yell a' you. Spee' dial 1." He took the phone back from the bartender and winced as it rang, way too loud for Tony.

"_Gibbs._"

"H-hey, boss. S'me, Tony."

"_Whaddya want, DiNozzo?_"

Tony hiccupped and swerved in his seat. "Don' think I gonna' make bre'fas', boss. 'M in a bar, and m'fren Mikey, here, thinksh I'm way-wasted.

"_You're in a __**bar**__?"_

"Who's behin' bars? Not me, boss! I'm jus' in a bar, drinkin'."

"_Where are you, DiNozzo?_"

Tony pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it, confused, then put it back. "'M in a bar, G-Gibbs. I though' I tol' you that….hadda' have m'fren Mikey, here, dial th' phone. The nummers were all messed up. Tha' ever hap-pen a' you, bossh?"

"_(sigh) Which bar are you in, DiNozzo?_"

"Pffft! C'mon, boss….'m in _this_ one! Jus' wanna-ed to le' you know I wasn' wasn' comin' to bre'fash. Roger-Wilco, over and out!" He dropped the phone on the bar, and Joe came over with another cup of strong coffee.

"For the last time, it's _Joe_, not Mikey."

_**NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**_

_Gibb's Basement_

"McGee, got a job. We gotta' go find DiNozzo… he's in a bar, somewhere in DC….." Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Ya' think, McGee?…..Call Ziva, start looking in every 24 hour bar you can find, work your way in toward the Navy Yard, I'll do the same from here." Gibbs hung up.

_**A/N - **_**I know, another shorty, but I'm working my way thru writer's block. A Grande Thank You to mandielouluvsewe for reminding me how this chapter was supposed to go! Couldn't have done it without you, sistah!**

_**DISCLAIMER - I have no claims on anything resembling NCIS or anything official like that. **_

_**PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW! I'm in crisis, so I need the cheering up as only reviews can do! Thank you!**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**A SOLITARY ACT**_

**CHAPTER 8**

Tim stood in the entryway of the bar, talking on the phone. "Yeah, I found him, boss…..he's worse than bad…No, that's ok, I'll take him home…..ok, I'll call you." Hanging up, he gazed over at his friend, so drunk, Tim didn't know how he was still sitting up on the stool. He walked over to his partner, speaking first so he wouldn't startle Tony and make him fall off his seat. "Hey, Tony. You've got everyone out looking for you, you know." he sat next to him.

"M'Gee!" Tony slapped Tim hard on the back, happy to see him. "Mikey! Mikey, this s' M'Gee. My bro-brother. We work together. Federal agents." He leaned in close to the bartender. "Shhhhhhh, be vewwy, vewwy qwiet….we' rwe hunting wabbits!" He burst into laughter, almost spilling his coffee. "M'Gee! M'Gee, my man, my buddy, my brother, my partner, my…yeah. M'Gee, thish is my new bes' fren' Mikey."

The bartender looked at Tim. "It's Joe, not Mikey."

"On-only Mikey'sh not bein' very bes' fren'-ish, cuz he givin' me coff-ffee 'stead a' the beer I ashked for." Tony waggled a finger in Joe's direction. "Tha's not nicesh, Mikey."

Tim grimaced. He'd traced Tony's cell phone to find him - in the lounge at the airport. The only place that's truly open for drinks 24-7. He'd gone for valet service, just in case Tony was so bad he couldn't walk very far - he'd used his badge to get out of a fee, but only for twenty minutes, then he'd have to start paying. "C'mon, Tony. Let's get you home, ok?"

"Wha's yer hurry, 'Gee? Si' down, have a drink. It's on me. Hey Mikey! Set my fren' here up wi' any-anyfing he wants. Only the bes' for my li'l bro."

Tim waved off the bartender. "Tony, it's time to go. Gibbs has been looking all over for you…."

Tony draped himself across Tim's shoulder. "Awwwww, did dad send you out to look for me? Did you do that thing you do, that you do, that voodoo you do, just to fin' me a'fore dad did?" He sloppily hugged Tim. "I love you, man. Li'l brother savin' my bacon again."

Pushing Tony off of him, Tim sighed. "I'm not saving _your_ bacon, I'm saving mine, because Gibbs will fry me if I don't get you home. Now let's go."

A hand holding up his head, Tony began waxing philosophical. Well, as philosophical as someone three sheets to the wind can be. "Gibbs… Gibbs…. Gibbs…..reminds me of The Brothers Gibb….that's the Bee Gees, McBorn-to-late. 'Stayin' Alive,' 'How Deep is Your Love,' 'Night Fever,' 'Jive Talkin'…" He took a sip of coffee, grimacing because he was still hoping for another beer. "Then…_then_, my young PadWan, was probably _the_ worst film remake ever - the Brothers Gibb remade a classic. A _classic_! 'Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.' They tried to remake the flippin' _Beatles,_ 'Gee!" His head slipped off his hand and he bobbed back up. "If you ever learn any…anything from me, McWannabe, let it be this: Never. Never. _Never _ever never, screw 'round with The Beatles. Sacrosanct, man."

Tim rolled his eyes. "I know who The Beatles are, Tony. Now c'mon, or Gibbs will be remaking 'The Sixth Sense' with the both of us."

Tony put a theatrical look on his face. "I see dead people!" he whispered. Then burst into laughter. "Ohhhh, M'Gee, M'Gee, M'Gee. Gee. Gee. Gee-gee. Gee-gee. Tuskegee. Bee-Gee. Luigi. Squeegee. Gigi. Gigi - now there wazh a movie, McRatedPG. 1958. Leslie Caron (tiger growl), Maurice Chev…chiv…shovel….Chev-ev….Maurice Chevrolet, Eva Gabor (double tiger growl). Set in Paris. Gigi is this courtes…. court….. cortisone…. courtesan! She's the daughter of this young playboy's father's mistress, and she and the playboy are friends. She grows up and goes from courtesan to this rich man's bride. (sigh) What a movie." He slung an arm around Tim's shoulders. "Hey, I got an id-idea…le's go my place….we'll wa-watch Gigi. I think yer grown up enufffff to learn 'bout women, Timmy. An' it's _my_ job azh yer bro-brother to intro-troduce you to them. Le'sh go, bro." Tony spun around on his stool and stepped off. He would have fallen if Tim hadn't caught him. "Oh, hey, hi, McTardy-to-the-Party. Wanna' drink? My fren' Mi-Mikey will set you up…."

"No, c'mon. We're leaving now." Tim looked at Joe. "What does he owe ya'?"

"He's all paid up, man."

Tim held out a fifty dollar bill. "For your trouble. And keeping _him _outta' trouble."

The bartender accepted the tip. "Sure thing, man. Anytime. Thanks."

Pulling Tony's arm over his shoulder, Tim leads a barely-able-to-stand Tony out of the lounge and into the airport concourse. Watching all the people rush by, trying to get to their plane gave Tony an idea.

"'S'ok, it was only a few drinks, I can still take that 747 up. Gotta get all those people to France. Spain. Wait, Norway? No, no, think it's Japan….well, somewhere…..jus' put me behind the wheel, and I'm good, my co-captain. I might' even le' you drive for a li'l while, if you're real good. But shhhhhh, don' tell yer mother, or she'll ground the both of ussshhhhhh."

For the hundredth time, Tim wondered why him? Finally making it out to the curb, Tim got the valet's attention, and the kid ran to get his car.

"Wow! Valet service?" Tony patted Tim on the cheek. "Sigh, I've trained you well, Timmy."

Tim had never been so thankful to see his car pull up. The valet opened the passenger door for him and Tim just about poured Tony into the seat. Tim turned to the valet and gave him a twenty dollar tip. The Porsche was scratch-free, like he asked. As he went around the car and got in the driver's side, he looked at his sidekick, already passed out against the window. "You are so going to pay me back every dollar for this, Tony." He looked over at Tony again, to make sure he wasn't awake to hear what he'd said. With a sigh of relief, he pulled the car into the heavy airport traffic, and headed home.

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Arriving at Tony's apartment building, Tim pulled into the parking spot closest to the door. He didn't want to have to drag Tony any further than he had to. Opening the passenger door, he barely caught his partner as he started to fall out of the car. It was a struggle to get him on his own two feet.

"M'Gee, I'll havvvve you know, I'm no' that kind a' girl. Watch where you put your hands." Tony laughed maniacally, as if he was the funniest thing on the planet. Arriving at his apartment, Tim put his hand in Tony's pocket to get his keys. "You men are all a' same…think you can…can buy us a drink n' swee' talk yer way inna our 'partment." Tony laughed again. "An' while I'm ha-ppy a' see-ee you, that really is my badge in my pock-ket."

"Thank God," Tim sighed as he finally got the door open. He let go of Tony for a minute to reach in and turn the light on, and Tony fell flat on his face through the door. For more than a few seconds, Tim thought about just leaving him there to sleep it off, but figured Gibbs would take his chair away again if he did, so he struggled to get Tony up. With some difficulty, he managed to drag him to the sofa and let him drop. He picked Tony's feet up, pulled off his shoes and placed his stockinged feet on the couch so he was lying down. As he turned to go get a pillow and blankets to cover his friend up, Tony reached out and grabbed his hand. Looking down, he saw Tony was staring at him, appearing almost sober.

"Thanks, Tim-mmy. Fer comin' to get me. You really are…my bes' fren', know that? Yer my broth-brother, man. I mean that."

"Sure. Yeah, I know that, Tony." Tim watched as Tony nodded drunkenly and started to fall back asleep.

It was a couple of hours later, and Tim was sitting in Tony's living room, working on his laptop. As drunk as Tony was, Tim was afraid to leave him alone in case something happened.

"I'm gonna' fe-el like crap tomorrow, aren' I?" Tony slurred.

Tim saw that Tony still had his eyes closed. "Probably worse than crap."

"'S ok. Deserve it. 'S all my fault. Feeling like crap doesn' seem e-nough."

"What are you talking about, Tony?"

"This. Ever'thing. 'S all my faul.' Knew it was wrong….did it anyw-way. Orders."

Tim was confused. "Someone ordered you to get dead drunk?"

Tony scowled. "Could you p'ease not say tha' word?"

"Drunk?"

Shaking his head, Tony grimaced. "_Dead_. Don' say tha' word. Coulda' been. An was all my faul.'"

"Who could have been dead?" Tim was having trouble following this conversation. Which, knowing Tony, was really probably leading nowhere."

"_Her._ Was s'posed a' be safe. Didn' think anything wid go wrong. Couldn' go wrong. Shouldn' go wrong. But did. An' now she could be dead, an it's all my fault."

"Who's her, Tony? What went wrong?"

"We all 'greed, sol 'tary was safest. She'd be safe. No one…touch her. But they did. Was s 'posed a' be safe. Prom-mised her, she safe. Wasn' safe. Didn' keep her safe. My faul' M'Gee. Didn' keep 'er safe. Why didn' we keep her safe?"

"Are you talking about Ms. Swanson, Tony?"

Tony burped. "'Nea. Didn' b'long there. Shouldn' ha' been there, M'Gee. I put her there. She…hurt cuz a' me. Her face…bruises, swelling…." A tear an down his cheek. "My faul' Tim. My faul'. I d'serve to feel worse than crap. Wha' kind a' guy…..let's wom-woman be hurt like tha'? A piece o' crap, tha' who. One step above the crap tha' did this to her. She was s 'posed a' be safe, Tim…..why wasn' she safe?"

Tim waited for Tony to say more, but all he got was a loud, drunken snore. Several hours later, Tony was as good as unconscious, snoring away. Tim got up quickly when there was a knock on the door. Gibbs pushed his way past into the living room to take a look at his downed agent.

"Think he's going to be like that for a while, boss. He was smashed."

Looking at Tony, Gibbs took off his coat and threw it on the back of the sofa. "You can go, Tim. Get some rest, take a half day."

"Thanks, boss." Tim grabbed up his jacket and laptop. "Um, boss? I think I know why Tony went overboard….." He told Gibbs all that Tony had told him, about Linnea's injuries being his fault.

Gibbs rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "Told him _not_ to go see her, the idiot. Ok, I'll take care of it. Thanks, Tim. Good job."

Tim stood a little straighter at the praise. "Any time, boss."

Locking the door after McGee as he left, Gibbs came and sat in the chair closest to the couch. He wanted to be near in case something happened. Watching over the younger man he considered a son, he first smiled at the moue on Tony's face - his head turned to the side, mouth slack and open, a line of drool running down his chin. And snoring like a freight train. Gibbs shook his head. "Son, Ziva's got nothing on you in that department." Thinking on what Tim had told him, he wanted to whack the younger man on the back of the head. Should have known he wouldn't follow orders - when has he ever? He leaned back in the chair and put his feet up on the coffee table, getting comfortable, awaiting the delight of a porcelain bus ride when Tony woke up. Gibbs sighed. "I'm too old for this."

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_**A/N - **_**Thanks to mandielouluvsewe, without whom this chapter would not have been finished. Thanks for all the ideas, gf! **

_**DISCLAIMER - NOTHING, NOBODY, NO HOW.**_

**I HATE TO BEG (well no I don't, not really) BUT IT WOULD MAKE MY JULY IF YA'LL COULD REVIEW AFTER YOU READ! PLEASE? THANKS IN ADVANCE! **


	9. Chapter 9

_**A SOLITARY ACT**_

**CHAPTER 9**

_Later that afternoon…_

Gibbs waited in the kitchen while Tony made his sixth - and hopefully final - visit to the porcelain hotel. He poured two strong cups of coffee, setting one on the table and keeping the other for himself. Minutes later, Tony came shuffling out of the bathroom. His hair was sticking up every which way, his clothes wrinkled, but he did look slightly less green. Gibbs set his mug down on the table with a loud thump, his lips twitching when Tony grabbed his head. Yep, his boy had it bad. "Sit," he said in a quiet but authoritative voice.

Sitting where Gibbs directed, Tony's face scrunched up at the smell of the coffee, and he pushed it away. "Sorry, boss," he moaned, "but I can't handle your brew right now." He put his head down on the table, resting on his arms. "Do me a favor, boss?"

Gibbs smiled. "Put you out of your misery?"

"Maybe later," Tony mumbled. "But right now I need the special DiNozzo Defibrillator."

"You're going to give me the secret recipe?" Gibbs smirked.

Tony snorted. "You wish. No, there's a jug in the fridge, top shelf, at the back."

Gibbs opened the refrigerator and located the plastic container. As he pulled it out, he saw that it had a skull and crossbones pasted on it. As he set it on the table, he raised an eyebrow at Tony.

Tony shrugged. "Neighbor's kids come over sometimes. Didn't want them grabbing the wrong jug." As Gibbs turned to the cabinets to get him a glass, Tony picked up the jug and put it to his lips, taking a big gulp. He saw Gibbs' stern look when he put the jug down. "Just getting a jumpstart."

He didn't know what was in the DiNozzo Defibrillator, but Tony was already beginning to get some color back in his face after one glass, thought Gibbs. When he'd finished his second glass, Gibbs took it and put it in the sink, then put the jug back in the refrigerator. When he turned back to the table, Tony looked him in the eye.

"I'm really not ready to talk about it yet, boss."

Gibbs looked Tony over. "Go grab a shower, put on some clean clothes," he said, almost nicely, and Tony gave him a relieved smile. "_Then_ we'll talk." The smile on the younger agent's face fell.

"Right," Tony sighed, and made his way to the bathroom.

An hour later, Tony finished - he'd stayed in the shower 'til the water ran ice cold - and walked back out to the living room. He'd hoped that Gibbs would be gone, but no dice. The boss sat in "his" chair, next to the sofa. With a sigh, he figured he'd get it over with, so he walked to the sofa and sat, exhausted, but feeling almost human, at least.

Gibbs watched as Tony walked into the room, clean, freshly-shaven, neat clothes. Hair was still a mess though, sticking up everywhere. He looked almost human. He waited, after Tony sat, to see if he would tell him what had caused all this, but his SFA could be stubborn. Looks like he'd have to start. "We told you specifically_ not_ to see Linnea Swanson, DiNozzo." Tony never looked up at him. "Why did you do it, Tony?"

Tony sighed and stretched his head back, leaning back. "I don't know. I mean…" he searched for the right words. "I've been there almost a month, boss. And she's still in the infirmary. That just doesn't sit right with me. She should be back in her cell by now. But she's got fresh bruises around her wrists, she's jacked up on so many pills, it could take a year for her body to completely detox. This isn't right, boss. She can't go on like this. She needs her life back."

Gibbs just stared at his agent, mad as hell that he went against orders, but proud as hell of the man, the agent, he'd become. "We're on it, Tony. Abby is going over all the medical charts for anything Brad may have missed. We're still waiting on the tox screen of her blood. You need to let us do our jobs out here, Tony."

"Well, you need to work faster." Tony abruptly stood and paced.

"_You_ need to let go of your emotions about this, about her. You need to stay focused." Gibbs stepped into Tony's path and put his hands on the younger man's shoulder to stop him. He waited until Tony looked him in the eye. "I need your head in the game, Tony. I won't hesitate to pull you."

Tony stared into Gibbs' eyes a moment longer, reading his anger and concern. He dropped his gaze and his body slumped in exhaustion. "I know," he whined, falling back onto the couch. "I know, I know. I just….." His eyes pleaded with Gibbs'. "It's my fault, she's there, boss. My fault she's been abused, raped repeatedly…..got pregnant, almost died having a miscarriage…..she never should have been there, boss. We shoulda' tried harder, worked a little longer to get more evidence, tried harder to talk her out of it…."

Gibbs sat on the coffee table in front of Tony. "'Ey. I'm your superior. It was _my _idea to interrogate her and her brother together. _My_ order to arrest her. _I'm _the one that made her stay in solitary happen. If this is on anyone, DiNozzo, it's on_ me._ Not you. You were doing your job, following my orders." He put his hand on the back of Tony's neck so he could look in his eyes, and hopefully get through to him. "_This. Is. Not. Your. Fault_, Tony. Hear me?"

Tony rubbed at his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you. I think you're _wrong_, but I hear ya'."

Watching his boy for a minute, Gibbs finally stood up and made for the door. "Get some rest. Need ya' in the office by 0800. Interrogating the brother."

Jumping up, Tony ran after Gibbs to the door. "Wait! We got new evidence?"

Halfway out the door, Gibbs turned. "Got some intel from someone on the ship. Preliminary checking says the info's good. Thought you might want to sit in."

Tony's blood was already beginning to boil at the thought of having that punk back in interrogation. He couldn't wait to see what the team had, couldn't wait to take this guy down, make him pay for what he let happen to his little sister. "Wouldn't miss it. Be there with bells on, boss." Gibbs smirked at him and nodded.

"Get some rest." And with that, Gibbs was gone.

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_The Next Day, 0800_

_NCIS Interrogation Rm. 1_

Tony couldn't believe the change in Petty Officer Swanson's appearance. He looked like he'd aged twenty years in the last twenty months. He'd lost weight, his skin was pale. His eyes looked haunted. Well, that's what happens when you let your sister go to federal prison in your place. Gibbs was already grilling the man.

"How's your sister, Petty Officer Swanson?"

The PO never raised his eyes from where his hands were folded on the table. "I don't know," he rasped.

Tony opened the file in front of him. "Oh, that's right. Says here you've never been to visit her. Kind of slipping on the big brother duties, there, Andrew." He felt a moment of pleasure as the PO closed his eyes and his comment hit home. But Swanson still didn't say anything. "Must be embarrassing, huh? Your _little_ sister, sitting in _federal_ prison? I can just imagine the looks, the stares…'hey, there's the guy who's sister's doing time in the federal pen.' Can't be easy on a ship, huh? Close quarters, tempers can get hot quick."

"It's fine, sir," the man whispered roughly.

Gibbs took over again. "How's the money situation these days, Petty Officer? Holding up ok?"

"Yes, sir."

Ya' know, Petty Officer, it's really not good form to take money from the ship's payroll account using your own password. Kinda' defeats the purpose of trying to cover your tracks." Gibbs pulled out time stamps, passcodes, and ships' purser's statements. "See, after you're in, you do real well at covering your tracks. There are no electronic footprints leading to you once the account is opened. The money was there, and now…." he pulls out bank statements. "….it's not. There's no paper trail. No electronic trail. So where did it go, Petty Officer?"

"I don't know, sir."

Tony's turn. "Did you know your sister was teaching the other _inmates_ in her _cell block_ to read? Yep, she did pretty well, too." He got up and began to pace around the room. "Even taught a few of them that were _being released_…" he paused behind the PO's chair, "how to apply for jobs, and how to keep it once they got one. Funny," Tony leaned one hand on the table and the other on the back of Andrew Swanson's chair. "…considering that, even if she's released tomorrow, your _little sister_ will probably never work again. Not with an embezzlement charge on her record. And not just _any _embezzlement charges…_federal_ charges. Stealing from an employer is one thing," Tony went back to his seat and dropped into it. "But stealing from your own government? Generally not something most potential employers are looking for on a resume`." The PO still didn't raise his eyes, but his chin quivered just a bit. Tony decided to push some more. "And her teaching career? She can kiss _that_ goodbye. Not too many parents want their little children spending the day in the care of a convicted felon, no matter how innocent it turns out she is. Nooooo, once the word 'prison' gets put out there, no school district will hire her. No one wants a _felon_ teaching in their school system." 'Ah-ha!' Tony thought to himself, as the Petty Officer closed his eyes as if in pain. 'Direct hit!'

Gibbs slapped a photo down on the table. "Know this guy?"

Swanson barely looked at the photo. "No,sir."

"Aw, c'mon Swanson, you didn't even take a look. How can you know you don't know him? Take another look."

PO Swanson picked his head up and took a quick glance. Quick, but not quick enough for Gibbs to miss the flare of recognition in his eyes. "I don't know him, sir."

"Zamfir Al Akba. One of the biggest underground munitions dealers in the free world. From what I hear, he's been a little strapped for cash lately."

Hearing the name, Tony turned to Gibbs. "Zamfir? Really? Like, 'The Master of the Pan Flute' Zamfir? You know, like in those commercials on TV from years ago….." He not only saw, but _felt_ the glare Gibbs gave him. "I'm…sure it's not…the same guy, he'd be like, what, in his eighties now?….But that's not important. Our guy is a bad guy. Real bad guy. Shutting up now, boss."

Gibbs turned his glare back on the Petty Officer. "You don't recognize him."

"No, sir."

"You might want to take a moment to think about it, Swanson." Gibbs pulled out another photo. "Because that sure looks like you, talking to Mr. Al Akba."

"I have nothing to say, sir."

This was enough kid-gloving for Tony. He pulled out some pictures of his own. "Remember how young and fresh-faced your sister looked, about two years ago? Yeah, this looks like some kind of party…look at her, laughing, pretty smile. Nice way to remember her, huh?" He saw Swanson take a deep breath. "Yeah, they say prison changes you. Here's her mug shot. No pretty smile in this one….looks like she's crying. She hasn't even been in prison yet, and already she looks several years older. Wonder if she still looks that way…oh, but then, you wouldn't know, you haven't been to see her, never even showed up for her sentencing." Tony scooped up the pictures. "Yeah, Petty Officer, you're one hell of a stand-up guy. Let your little sister take the rap for you, and then don't even visit her in that hellhole she's living in."

"DiNozzo." Quiet, commanding.

Tony took a deep breath, held it, then slowly released it.

Andrew Swanson couldn't take it anymore. They may kill him, but knowing his sister basically gave up her life for him was just too much. This Agent DiNozzo was right. He was no kind of man. He felt a tear run down his cheek, and he sniffled. "He said they'd hurt her," he whispered.

"Who?" asked Gibbs.

Swanson sighed. "Al Akba. Said if I didn't (sniffle) help them…that they would hur…hurt Linnea." He wiped at his eyes with his fingers. "(sniffle) About a year before all this, she had a car accident. (sniffle) She was ok, just a few bruises. A few days later, I got pictures in the mail. Of the accident. Her talking to the other driver." He took a deep breath. "There was a letter with the pictures. Unsigned, but I knew who it was from. It said that the driver could have done much worse damage. To the car and to the girl." Andrew tried to collect himself, keep himself from making a complete fool of himself. "I got a call. From Al Akba the next day. Said he had someone watching Linnea all the time, he could get to her anytime he wanted, do anything he wanted to her, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. Unless I gave him what he wanted."

Gibbs kept a neutral face. "The ship's payroll."

Swanson nodded. "Fifty thousand dollars. I thought, 'no sweat', I could make it look like an accounting error. I did like they asked, he said my sister was safe, no one on the ship was none the wiser."

"But he came back for more."

Taking out a handkerchief, Swanson wiped his eyes. "Yeah. He came back. Wanted more. A lot more. I said no, that I couldn't make that much just disappear. Al Akba said he knew Linnea worked part-time at the bank. She could help me out. I told him no way, my sister wasn't getting involved in this. Then he took out his phone, and showed me live video of a man outside her classroom window. He had an assault rifle."

Gibbs stared the PO in the eye. "So you did what he wanted."

"I did what he wanted. Managed to do it by myself. Gave him the money, told him that was it, I was done. He agreed. A few weeks later, he was back, asking for even more money. In the millions. I knew I'd never be able to pull that off. I stalled, told Al Akba it was going to take about a week to be able to make that much disappear without a trace. Next day, I received a CD in the mail. No label on it. Put it in the computer, played it." He broke down. "It was screaming. A woman screaming in pain. It sounded like Linnea. I panicked! I called her right away, but she didn't answer. I tried and tried for three days to find her. She showed up that Monday afternoon. Fine, not a hair out of place. Reminded me that she'd gone to the Adirondacks for the long weekend. She'd heard all my messages, read all my texts and emails when she got home. Wanted to know what the hell was wrong. I couldn't…..thinking it had been her….I told her what was going on. She begged me to go to the authorities." Swanson looked up at Gibbs and Tony. "Said they'd be able to help both of us. But I…I just couldn't…."

"You were in too deep," Gibbs said quietly, and Swanson nodded.

"I knew that even if you guys believed me about Al Akba, I'd still go to prison, and there'd be nobody to take care of my sister. She'd be out here alone, and if not Akba, than one of his gang could get to her." He shook his head. "I never meant for her to actually get involved. I figured she could just tell me how to do it, give me codes and stuff. She said no, that she could get it done quicker, I should just go to Al Akba and tell him the money was coming, and that this would be the last, that we were done. Well Linnea tried to play it smart, she did something so the transfer wouldn't go through. I noticed it before Akba, went to the bank, used her codes, made the transfer myself. That's when it all started to go downhill. On my end." He looked at both agents, tears streaming down his face. "You gotta believe me. I never meant for Linnea to get involved in this at all. I told her to stay out of it. But she said…." He squeezed his eyes shut, in great emotional pain. "She said that no one was going to get away with hurting….(sniffle) with hurting her big brother." Andrew out his head down on the table and cried.

Gibbs and Tony were silent. Gibbs could tell Tony was itching to continue with his portion of the interrogation, but he shook his head at the younger agent. PO Swanson couldn't handle it right now.

Tony waited as long as he could, until Swanson quieted then picked his head up. Then he burst. "So you thought her going to prison would keep Linnea safe?" The distraught man just nodded.

"Tony," Gibbs warned.

Grabbing a bunch of photos out of the file in front of him, Tony spread them out in front of Andrew Swanson. "Does _this_ look like she's _safe_ to you?" He yelled, fanning out the pictures of Linnea with her bruises. It never even registered when the man in front of him gagged. "Oh, and here she is in the hospital. _Having a miscarriage!" _Tony stood and leaned across the table, into Swanson's face. "That's right, Swanson. This isn't from other inmates. A guard _raped your sister_ almost every night for a year! And when she got pregnant, he _beat her_ so severely she miscarried! She almost _died_ in her cell from blood loss!"

Gibbs had tried to rein in Tony, but the agent was just too angry. "DiNozzo! Enough!" He pulled Tony away from the table and back against the mirrored window. "Enough!" Gibbs looked back at Swanson, who had crushed a picture of his sister to his chest and was rocking back and forth, sobbing, saying he was sorry. He startled when the door flew open and Tim and Ziva rushed in. He dragged Tony towards them. "Get him outta here!" Ziva and McGee each took an arm and pulled/pushed the angry agent out of the room.

_The Bullpen_

Ziva and McGee sat at their desks watching Tony pace like a caged animal. They knew he was angry, and that he knew Gibbs was angrier at him for losing it during the interrogation. The two younger agents were not looking forward to the scene to come.

They didn't have to wait long, as Gibbs soon came storming into the bullpen. They had all seen him angry at one point or another, but this was worse than anything they'd ever seen. Gibbs walked right up to Tony and pushed him backward. "What the _hell_ were you thinking, DiNozzo? Is this how you keep your head in the game? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't fire your ass!"

Tony stood up to Gibbs. "I did what I had to do! He was whining about himself, all the trouble _he_ was going to be in! I just set him straight! He thought his sister would be _safer_ in _prison_! Forgive me for thinking he needed to see just how _safe_ she was!"

"That wasn't your call to make! _You_ are not running this investigation! You're lucky I'm not pulling you!" He lowered his voice. "Go home, DiNozzo. Get your head back on straight, or don't bother coming back." He took a few steps back, and Tony angrily reached for his backpack and gun from his desk without a word. He fumed past Gibbs, bumping into him with a shoulder, and headed for the elevator without looking back.

McGee and Ziva quickly put their heads down, pretending to work, when Gibbs turned to them. "I want everything on Al Akba. Family, friends, hang outs, you name it, I want it. And I want it yesterday!" He turned to leave, banging the side of the file cabinet as he past. "Goin' to see Abby." The two younger agents watched him go, concerned looks on their faces, for both their partner, and for Gibbs. Sharing a look across the bullpen, they got to work on Al Akba.

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_**A/N - **_**Hope you liked this chapter! Lots of Tony angst! Thanks to mandielouluvsewe, who gave me a challenge to get these chapters up in a certain amount of time (if they suck, blame her!). I always did work better under pressure! (Go read mandielou's stories - I love 'em!)**

_**DISCLAIMER #1 - OWN NOTHING. IT'S ALL PROPERTY OF BELISARIUS AND CBS.**_

_**DISCLAIMER #2 - I HAVE NO WORKING KNOWLEDGE OF HOW FEDERAL/NAVAL PAYROLL IS DONE. THIS CHAPTER WAS TOTAL FICTION ON MY PART.**_

_**SHAMELESS BEGGING - **_**PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PRETTY PLEASE, REVIEW WHEN YOU'RE DONE READING! PLEASE? FOR ME? HUH, WOULD YA', HUH? PLEASE?**

**MANY, MANY THANKS!**

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	10. Chapter 10

_**A SOLITARY ACT**_

**CHAPTER 10**

_One Week Later_

_Penitentiary_

It had been a week since Tony had gone too far with Andrew Swanson, Linnea's older brother, and Gibbs still hadn't quite forgiven him. It was nothing overt, just a more curt conversation than usual. The 'Breakfast De-Briefings,' as he'd come to call them, had stopped being the friendly banter that it was in the beginning, it was business. Eat, report, and get out.

Had he gone to far? Ok, yeah, maybe he did. But he just couldn't listen to that bastard whine about himself anymore, when his sister had been through hell. He was an hour early for his shift, but he planned on looking in on Linnea first. He was just walking in the infirmary door when he saw a familiar face coming around the corner from Linnea's room, accompanied by Nurse Maria.

"Lost again, Officer Magnum?" Maria smiled at Tony coyly.

Brad Pitt's eyebrows rose. He knew Tony was undercover, but…. "Officer.._Magnum_?" He couldn't control the smile. Leave it to DiNozzo!

Tony smirked at Brad, then smiled brightly for Maria. "Nurse Maria, how are you today? Looking beautiful as ever, I see." He turned to Brad. "And you are…?"

"Dr. Pitt. From Bethesda Naval Hospital."

"He's here checking on a patient." Maria signed papers on a clipboard, and handed it to Brad for his signature.

Brad glanced at Tony, as if to tell him to pay attention. "I'm pleased with Ms. Swanson's progress, Maria. I want to continue with that new medication we've got her on. No more of the relaxants or the other pain meds. I'd like to skip the antidepressants as well, unless the symptoms become worse. The nausea should be controllable with the anti-emetic, but if not, give me a call, and we'll see about starting her on a low dose of paroxetine or buproprion." He looked at Tony again, then back to Maria. "If she continues to improve, she could be back on the block by next week."

Maria blessed herself. "Your lips to God's ear, doctor. And thank you for what you said to Dr. Myers. It's about time someone took him down a peg."

With a little half-smile, Brad returned the paperwork to Maria. "Let me know if that pompous ass gives you any more grief. He's already got two strikes against him, one more and I'll have his license to practice pulled. With pleasure."

Maria simpered. "You're a great man, Dr. Pitt," she sighed.

Tony wanted to gag. "Yeah, Dr. Pitt, you're a great man." He smirked.

Brad turned to Tony. "I'm sorry, " he began conversationally. "But you look familiar. Ever play football at Ohio State? You look just like the star of the team…who's leg I broke when I tackled him."

Tony stopped smiling. He had to bring _that_ up. "No, never been to Ohio. Sorry." Oh you'll pay for that, Pitt!

"You must have that kind of face." With a smirk, he turned and said good-bye to Maria and walked out the door.

"Nice guy," Tony snorted. "He any good as a doctor?"

Maria's face lit up. "Oh yes! Remember that patient you saw last time you were in? Well, Dr. Pitt took her off all the drugs Dr. Myers had her on. She gets more lucid every day. He's cut back severely on the pain meds, so she is in pain, but without all that other crap in her system, she shouldn't have a problem for too much longer. He added an antibiotic, but other than that, well, like the man said, she should be able to go back to the block next week."

Tony smiled, relieved. "That's good. I hope she keeps it up, then." He made a show of looking at his watch. "Almost time for briefing. I'd better go. Maybe I'll….get lost on my break later?" He winked with a toothy grin.

Coming over and brushing her ample cleavage against 'James'' arm, Maria smiled. "Looking forward to it." She waved coyly as 'James' gave her a small wave on his way out the door.

_**NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**_

As Tony walked through the penitentiary, he text McGee the good news about Linnea Swanson. He'd let McGee tell Gibbs. Putting away his phone, he took a 'shortcut' through the old jail. He did this a couple of times a night, hoping to catch Sully in the act, but there had never been anyone down there. Until tonight. He saw the door propped open with a chair - the signal that 'the tombs' was occupied.

Tony listened at the door a moment but didn't hear anything, so he decided to start down the stairs. The closer he got to the bottom, the more noise he heard - the grunting and moaning of sex. And crying. Dammit, he didn't know what to do - he was supposed to be one of them, but the law enforcement officer - hell, the _man_ - in him was telling him to act. Hoping he looked nonchalant, he strode down into the old cells. There was an officer he didn't recognize just finishing up with an inmate. Tony could tell by the color of her prison garb that she was from another part of the pen. "Whoops! Sorry," he said with a predatory smile.

The officer wiped himself off and zipped up. "I don't know you. Should you be down here?"

Tony pulled out a set of keys specifically for this area. "Sully just presented me with my keys a couple of weeks ago." He made a note to remember this guy's name - Miller.

Miller slapped the woman hanging onto the cell bars on the ass. "Welcome to the club, then. Let's go, Nolan." The woman let go of the bars and shakily pulled down her prison dress and began to leave the cell behind Miller.

Thinking fast, Tony stopped them. Miller turned. "You, uh….mind if I….." Tony gestured to the woman. "I'll walk her back when we're done…this will be my first go 'round down here."

With a smile, the other officer pushed the woman back into the cell. "Consider this your inaugural fuck. Nolan, here, will take care of ya'. Right, Nolan?"

"Yes, CO," the woman said, either bored or resigned. Or both.

Miller gave Tony a conspiratory wink and left, whistling. Tony waited until he heard his footsteps walking away before he turned to the inmate. "How d'ya want it?" she asked. When Tony looked confused, she rolled her eyes. "On the cot, standing, do you want a blow job…what?"

"No." Tony shook his head. "None of that. Are you gonna rat on me?" It was the prisoner's turn to look confused. "Do you…what's your first name?"

"Shelly," she answered suspiciously.

"Shelly, do you _want_ to do this?" Before she could answer, Tony continued, "I mean, are Miller or any of the others holding anything over you? Say they'd hurt someone, your family, if you didn't? Or do you enjoy this?"

The woman still wasn't sure she trusted this CO. "Let's just get this over with, ok? What do you want?" She began lifting up her dress. Tony reached over and stopped her.

"That's not what I want, Shelly." He grimaced when the woman started to drop to her knees in front of him. He pulled her back up. "I _want_ answers, but I need to know if you're going to rat about what happens here."

Shelly looked at him suspiciously. "Answers to what?"

"When you tell me whether or not you're gonna' talk, I'll tell you."

She came right back, "When you tell me what you're asking, I'll tell you if I'm blabbing." She crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her foot impatiently.

Sighing, Tony figured if he didn't tell her _something_, they'd keep going like this. "Look, I'm not one of them, I'm not looking for sex. I'm looking for _them_. I need to know if you can keep quiet about this, if I can trust you. Otherwise we're done here."

Shelly shifted nervously. "You mean, you're a rat?"

"Depends. Are you going to rat on _me_?"

"You're really going to put a stop to this?"

Tony took a step away from her, giving her space, to show he was serious. "If you'll tell me what I need to know. And keep your mouth shut about me."

Shelly thought for a minute. "You'll make sure nothing happens to our families?"

His ears perked up. "Who's he threatening, Shelly?"

She swallowed so hard Tony could hear it. "He had pictures. Of my daughters. At school, at home…said he and the rest could get to them anytime if I didn't….do this. Said maybe my girls would if _I_ wouldn't. They're fourteen and sixteen, my daughters, and they pretty much hate me for what I did, and for being in here. But they're still my babies, and I'll do anything…._anything_ to protect them."

Tony gestured for Shelly to have a seat on the cot, and he stood across the cell, reassuring her that he meant her no harm. "That's the kind of stuff I need to know, Shelly. How many, besides Miller? Whatever you can tell me, to help me stop them….no matter how small you think it is, I want to know."

Shelly bit her nails, still unsure. "You'll protect my daughters?"

"I can't promise personal, round the clock protection for your daughters, but I _can_ promise you that any officer you give me today will be watched 24-7. If they go near your daughters, or anyone else's, we can stop them." Tony could see she was scared. "You may be in prison, Shelly. But you're still a human being, and you don't deserve what's happening to you. None of you do. And with your help - and the help of any of your block mates you think might want out of this - we can stop it. For good."

Deciding there was no harm in trusting him - what was the worst that could happen if this fell through, more of the same? - Shelly sighed. "What do you want to know?"

Tony gave her his biggest, genuine smile, and took out his notebook.

_**NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**********NCIS**_

_**A/N - **_**HOPE YA'LL ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER! I'M STILL DEALING WITH WRITER'S BLOCK ON THIS ONE, SO I HOPE THIS WAS OK. THANKS TO GaGaMidnight FOR GIVING ME THE PUSH I NEEDED TO GET BACK ON THIS STORY WAGON. **_**ALL THE USUAL DISCLAIMERS APPLY.**_

_**SHAMELESS BEGGING - **_**PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS CHAPTER! YOUR REVIEWS ARE ALMOST AS GOOD AS REESE'S PEANUT BUTTER CUPS. **_**ALMOST**_** !**

**THANK YOU!**


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